Tale of Years: 1950
by Jessica314
Summary: In 1950, a pair of mysterious, gifted vampires arrive at the Cullen residence, ready to join the family. That's right, it's finally time to meet Alice and Jasper! Can be read alone, or as the seventh installment in the Tale of Years Series. 100% Canon-Friendly Twilight Prequel, Edward POV.
1. Prologue

**Welcome to Tale of Years: 1950! **

**I think I can speak for all of us when I say this is the one I've been the most excited about. And in terms of length, complexity, and drama, this is going to be *the big one*. The final coming-together of the entire Cullen family is the natural climax to the series, and it will also be the climax for Edward in terms of identity crisis and emotional development. **

**I said in my series intro (on my profile) that each family member has taught Edward something new, so I want to officially announce here that Alice will be teaching him to trust, and Jasper will be teaching him to forgive himself. It'll be a while before we meet Alice and Jasper in the main story, but in the meantime, we'll be peeking in on them occasionally via the Outtakes Folder (and yes, a 1948 installment is almost ready to be posted). Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Saga and its universe. No profit is made here and no offense intended.**

* * *

**Prologue**

**August 1948**

I sat in the lobby between Carlisle and Esme, nervously tapping my fingers on my lap as we waited for the Dean's secretary to call us in. Carlisle nudged my shoulder, and gave me an encouraging smile.

_Relax, son. You're going to be fine._

I nodded, but my fingers refused to stop tapping until Esme reached over and laid her hand on mine, sending me her own mental encouragement.

_You can do this. You're ready._

I swallowed, but allowed my left hand to relax as Esme continued to rub it with her thumb. My right hand was clutching a brown folder, filled with the lies and forgeries that told the story of why Dartmouth Medical School would be lucky to have me.

It was the most elaborate cover story we had ever composed. We had been in Sweden for the past six years while Carlisle, himself a rising young star in the medical field, finished school and completed his final residency at St. Eriks Ögonjukhus. I was a child prodigy- only eighteen, and already a graduate, Summa Cum Laude, of Stockholm University. I had majored in Chemistry with an emphasis on Pre-Med, and now that we were back in America, I was eager to follow in my adopted father's footsteps, by attending an Ivy League medical school.

It was an old trick that Carlisle had used before. Schools and employers were much less likely to look into your past if you peppered your references with prestigious, foreign-sounding names. And dressing like you were filthy rich didn't hurt, either; the outfit Esme was wearing today had cost more than Carlisle's first automobile. And we really _had_ been to Sweden, back in '45; just long enough to steal some Stockholm University letterhead, and to brush up on our Swedish in case we were ever challenged. During our travels, Carlisle had made it a habit to collect letterhead from various places that we visited; we never knew when we might need a new cover story. I even had a couple of references with real addresses: Garrett Shoemaker, who had been my priest during my youth in Boston, and Liam O'Neill, an Oxford-educated Irishman who had been my tutor in Sweden. It was doubtful that either vampire would ever check the post office boxes that we had signed them up for, but it was a nice touch, nonetheless.

But despite our preparation, I was still nervous. For one thing, I knew it wasn't standard procedure for the Dean of Students to interview applicants to the Medical School. Why had he asked to meet with us today? I had been closely observing the Dean's thoughts over the past twenty minutes, though I had yet to hear him think about me, in particular. All we knew was that he had "taken an interest" in my application, and wanted to meet me in person.

But the real reason for my anxiety was that I had been preparing for this moment for ten years. I had half-heartedly aimed for medical school in the past, back in the early thirties- though that had really been for Carlisle's sake, not mine. I hadn't really given much thought back then to whether or not I would be capable of getting through such a program, in terms of blood exposure. My education had been interrupted so often during the thirties that it really hadn't mattered.

But I was ready now. Ever since Eleazar's breakthrough in '40, medical school had become a real possibility, instead of just a dream. In the past ten years, I had achieved success after success with the blood challenges, to the point where _I _was now the one preparing the blood, and standing right beside it as it warmed. I still experienced thirst each time-more than I liked- but Carlisle had finally pronounced me ready for medical school, earlier this year. It would be some time before I would be required to be around real, bleeding patients, though- Dartmouth was in a bit of a downswing, and its students had little access to real patient care. There was still time to tighten my control even further. During the next few months, Carlisle would begin slowly exposing me to the smell of fresh blood at Cottage Hospital, the rural clinic where he had just begun working.

We had, in fact, picked Dartmouth precisely _because_ of the lack of clinical training here. The medical school had stopped offering a full M.D. program back in 1914, after a review board declared the rural location too remote to offer enough patient interaction for the students. But the school was still Ivy League, still growing, and still quite prestigious, by any count. Students attended DMS for two years for their pre-clinical instruction, and then were farmed out to other schools and hospitals for the remainder of their tenure. If all went well, I would receive my certificate of completion in 1950, ready to finish my M.D. at any one of the schools nearby.

It was perfect. Not only did Dartmouth's current problems ensure that I wouldn't be much exposed to blood, but it also worked perfectly with my inability to age. It might be noticed, over the span of a four-year medical degree and the residencies that followed, that I never aged past my child-prodigy appearance. But with a new set of peers halfway through, it was conceivable that I could make it all the way through to my M.D. without having to uproot the family.

And after that? Only time would tell. This was only my first attempt, after all, and I hadn't even been accepted to the program yet. Carlisle had truly enjoyed himself this summer, helping me prepare my application and the necessary forgeries, alongside his own. He had, of course, been to medical school several times himself, though not since he had changed me. I had enjoyed sharing in the memories that our project brought up in his mind- some dating back even to the Renaissance. But our crowning achievement had been my entrance essay, and the diagnosis of hemophilia which had inspired it.

We had used the hemophilia ruse before, back in '31. I had still been readjusting to the vegetarian diet and human interaction at the time. Carlisle had wanted me to be excused from Physical Education classes, in which my peers were most likely to injure themselves and test my control, which was shaky at best back then.

But this time around, the diagnosis was a must. Even in these first two years of med school, we would be practicing on each other: blood pressure cuffs, injections, scraping cell samples, drawing blood- and I simply wouldn't be able to avoid them all. And even if I had Carlisle's level of control, which I didn't, my own impenetrable skin would make it impossible, not to mention dangerous, for me to participate. So Carlisle had, once again, drawn up the necessary papers to prove my childhood diagnosis of hemophilia. It would be a shame for whoever had the misfortune of being my lab partner, but that was their problem.

It had been Esme's idea to have my entrance essay center around my struggles as a hemophiliac. We invented a childhood car accident in which I had almost died from blood loss, and the months of recovery that had led to my interest in becoming a doctor, myself. To make it even more of a tearjerker, we decided that the accident had been the same one in which my biological parents were killed. Carlisle had been the young, friendly pre-med student who had noticed my plight and decided to adopt me. His new wife, Esme, had taken to the idea at once, coming to visit me in the hospital. According to the essay, it had been the look of awe and admiration in Esme's face, as she gazed at her new husband, that had gotten me thinking about a career in medicine. The story got even better after that: as my hemophilia complicated my recovery from the near-death experience, Esme had begun homeschooling me. This was how my studies had begun to accelerate, getting me into Stockholm University at the tender age of fifteen. With my brilliant I.Q. and the encouragement of my new parents, I had whizzed through University in three years, more determined than ever to become a physician.

So there it was: an entire life, riddled with tragedy and inspiration, down on paper. I just hoped the Dean of Students was a gullible man.

"Dr. and Mrs. Cullen? The Dean will see you now."

I stood up together with my parents and we headed into the office. The Dean was a jolly-looking, heavyset fellow in his mid-fifties, who motioned us in with a wave of his meaty hand and gestured to the three chairs opposite his desk. He lumbered out of his own chair with a wheeze, shaking hands with all of us and grumbling about the climate in Sweden having ruined our circulation.

"So, Mr. Cullen," he said as he landed back in his chair, "I've been looking over your papers, and it seems that you have your heart set on being a Dartmouth man."

"Yes, sir," I answered politely, offering him my folder.

He waved it away, and I was impressed- and dismayed- to see his photographic memory flipping through everything he had already read about me. His relaxed, disheveled appearance hid a mind that was obviously quite brilliant. This was usually a bad sign, in our case. Intelligent people had a tendency to question things.

"Must admit," he said after a deep breath, "I've never had an eighteen-year-old sitting in this office before. Quite remarkable. You really think you're ready for this, son?"

I leaned forward in my chair with a smile, trying to strike a balance between bashful innocence and confidence. "I think so, sir. I realize I may be a little younger than most of your applicants, but I've prepared myself as best I can, and I've overcome challenges before."

"Yes, hemophilia, isn't it? I must say, I'm a bit surprised. Most hemophiliacs I've treated have quite a fear of doctors. Never saw one want to _become_ one."

I nodded. "I'd say that I've developed a healthy fear of needles, at least. But I've had some very positive role models in the physicians that I've dealt with in the past, my father included."

Carlisle discreetly kicked my foot under the chair. _Bring it down a notch, Edward. You sound like you're forty-five years old._

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I _was _forty-five years old; forty-seven, actually. Still, he had a point.

"I guess I was afraid of doctors when I was little," I continued, trying to lighten up my vocabulary. "It wasn't until after the accident that I got over my fear. I learned a lot just by being in the hospital for so long, and I began to admire the doctors who had worked so hard to save my life."

"And that's when you met Dr. Cullen," the Dean put in, looking at Carlisle with a mixture of admiration and suspicion. _They almost look the same age. Quite odd._

"I was hardly a doctor at the time," Carlisle said, putting on a youthful smile. "I was a senior at UMass, and studying Biology, Pre-Med. It was quite the fortunate accident that brought Edward and I together; I was shadowing a physician in a local hospital as part of my senior project, and Edward's case ended up being the one that my mentor suggested that I use as my case study. I guess you could say that the more I got to know him, the harder it was to imagine him being alone in the world- he was eleven years old, and I knew that older children tend to have difficulty being adopted. And he was such a _good_ young man, and so promising, that I couldn't bear to just walk away and leave him."

Esme chimed in for the first time, her warm voice instantly drawing the Dean's attention. "So Carlisle told me his idea, and brought me in to meet him. You see, we had just gotten married, and we already knew that I could never have children. So we were planning to adopt at some point anyway, and as soon as I met Edward, I just knew it was the right thing to do. Of course, we had no way of knowing at the time that my father was about to have his stroke, but moving to Sweden ended up giving both my husband and my son even more opportunities."

Carlisle and Esme shared a sweet look while the Dean shook his head. _Incredible. Adopting an eleven-year old at age twenty-two. Moving across the ocean to take care of your father-in-law. Do these things really happen?_ He cleared his throat, staring at Esme's diamond necklace and fantasizing about Carlisle's net worth. "I suppose you'll be expecting some special allowances for the hemophilia. For starters, we'd make sure that you're in a group of three for your labs, so that your partners will be able to practice on each other when it comes to sharp objects."

"Blood pressure cuffs as well, if you don't mind," Carlisle added. "Edward's arms were covered in bruises when I first met him in the hospital. And even his wrists, from nurses checking his pulse."

Clever.

"Of course, of course," the Dean agreed, turning a sharp eye toward me. "But this doesn't excuse _you_ from working on your lab partners, Cullen. I'll not have a med student who's afraid to touch a needle or a scalpel, just because he's afraid of cutting himself."

I smiled and nodded, covering the very real fear that the thought of using a _scalpel_ brought me. "Of course not, sir. I don't want any special accommodations, other than being spared the risk of injury to myself."

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes boring into my own as though I were a microscope slide. _His condition isn't the problem-it's his youth. I'd hate to waste our time-and his- when he really isn't ready. Being a kid genius doesn't make one mature enough to chase after an M.D. And kids like this tend to be a little too arrogant for their own good. Not sure I want that around._

I kept my hopeful smile on, my heart sinking as he continued thinking of reasons why having a "kid genius" in the ranks was a bad idea. We had known it was a risk using such a young age; but we had done it anyway, hoping for a longer stay, and an uninterrupted education for once. But none of that mattered if I couldn't even get _in_. Fortunately, the Dean's eyes drifted back to Esme's diamond necklace again.

_But_ _having a parent like Dr. Cullen- well, just imagine if he became a trustee someday! And the kid does seem mature, as well as intelligent. This might be just the sort of thing our school needs to get us out of this slump- Dartmouth on the cutting edge again, full of bright young stars. Yes. The Board is going to eat this up, if I spin it the right way. And they'll love his essay._

He heaved himself out of his chair suddenly, and extended his hand, which I eagerly took.

"Welcome to Dartmouth, Mr. Cullen."

.

.

.

A month later, I was sitting in my first Gross Anatomy lecture, waiting for the professor to arrive. There were 107 of us, but I was sitting on the fringes, with Nick Lawrence on one side and William Cummings on the other. We had all, on the list posted on the door of the lecture hall, learned who our assigned partners were, both for dissection lab and for the labs in the classes that would follow. I was explaining to Nick and William the reason why we had been assigned as a group of three, instead of two.

"So, you could bleed to death, just from accidentally cutting yourself?" Nick asked in awe.

I smiled patiently. "It's unlikely that I would really die, but yes, that's the idea. This way, when it's time for practice with needles and such, you two will be able to work on each other, and I'll just work on you two."

"Seems like a risky profession for someone who's afraid of sharp objects," William said blandly. It was quite clear from his thoughts that he thought I was a spoiled sissy.

"I'm not afraid of sharp objects," I said, with slightly less patience than before. "I just have to be careful, is all." Of course, the real risk was one of _them_ cutting themselves in front of me. I had confidence in my new level of control, but if blood was to flow unexpectedly- from a slash wound, no less- I wouldn't want to bet on the results. At least I had done a few dissection labs before, back in '31, and I hadn't killed anyone _then_.

"Anyway," I continued, "it was actually my hemophilia that got me interested in medicine. I'm thinking about going into research. Maybe I'll be the one to cure hemophilia someday." This was, by far, the funniest part of my cover story: a vampire, aiming for a career in hematology. Carlisle had cautioned me not to share this "dream" with my professors, lest one of them kindly get me an internship in a hematology lab. But I would enjoy my little joke for now.

"I want to be the doctor for the Cardinals," said Nick, who was from Chicago.

"I want to go into Orthopedics, too," said William. "I was in the Naval Reserve during the War, and I saw too many of my buddies come back with missing parts. Made me want to learn how to save some legs, if I can."

Nick snorted. "Well, for the next four months, you'll be cutting parts _off_, you know?"

William rolled his eyes. "Funny. What about you, Cullen? Were you over there?"

Nick shoved him. "Dope. He's a bleeder, remember? They'd never let him in the military."

William blushed over to me apologetically. "Oh… right. Sorry. That must have been awful, not being able to go." _Poor guy. I'll bet every one of his friends went._

I almost mouthed off about being too young at the time, but decided against it. For some reason, I seemed to actually be making a good impression, and pointing out my "kid genius" status probably wasn't the way to go. So for once, I went with the truth.

"You have no idea," I sighed. "I wanted more than anything to be a soldier, and to serve my country. I dreamed about nothing else, during the War."

William nodded in approval, and I hid my smile, thinking that reminiscing about one World War was as good as another. I was about to ask Nick if he had enlisted, as well, when the professor finally walked in.

"Good morning," he said briskly, opening his notes as soon as he touched the podium. "Before we begin, I'd like to give you all the standard welcome that all med students receive. I want you to look to the person at your left, and then the one at your right. Memorize those faces."

Nick, William and I looked at each other dutifully.

The professor's face was grave. "By the time you lot reach your certificate, one of those faces will be gone. You all chose a lofty goal, coming here, and some of you aren't going to make it. Having said that, I applaud your choice. Some of you are older than others, and some are younger. Some of you are already husbands, fathers. And many of you have already risked your lives to serve our country. But all of you have embarked on a journey that, if you can make it, will be the most rewarding path you could have walked: you'll be saving lives. Let's begin."

As we opened our textbooks, Nick, William, and I glanced at each other again, silently wishing each other luck. William and Nick were secretly hoping that our little group of three would beat the odds; they were both already worried about me, thinking I was delicate and sickly. I certainly looked the part, what with my pallor and half-thirsty eyes.

_I_ was just hoping I wouldn't accidentally kill either of them this afternoon, when the professor armed us with our scalpels.

.

.

.

As I drove home that evening, stinking of cadaver, the professor's words were still echoing in my mind. _You have embarked on a journey that, if you can make it, will be the most rewarding path you could have walked: you'll be saving lives._ A lofty goal, to be sure. Would I be able to reach it? Would I be able, after my two years, to begin caring for real patients? Would I be ever be able to work as a real physician, with my youthful appearance? Would my control prove to be enough, when the time came to risk my patient's lives with my presence?

I had worked so hard to get to this point that I actually hadn't given much thought to the final goal the professor had mentioned. Saving human lives, indeed. I had certainly _taken_ enough human lives. I winced as the familiar faces flashed before my eyes, their transparent looks of accusation dotting the windshield. But for once, instead of drowning myself in guilt and memory, I mentally waved my tormentors away and smiled in defiance. If I really could make it to the "saving lives" part, as the professor had said, my journey would hold a lot more meaning than he suspected: I could finally begin to atone for my sins, one life at a time. Debt repaid.

I caught Carlisle wondering sometimes if I had forgiven myself yet. He was afraid to ask, and to be honest, I would have been afraid to answer; most likely, my answer would be no. But as I pulled up to the house and saw Esme running out to greet her med student proudly, my defiant smile turned into one of hope.

No one could know the future. But if the future I had begun today was achieved, it was possible that atonement could become more than a topic for debate; it could become a reality.

* * *

**Just as a note of interest, William Cummings really was a DMS semi-M.D. grad in 1950, and his War story is really true (except that he became an anesthesiologist in the end. And by the way, his wife's name was Alice :) **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the prologue. I decided against doing a long flashback of the War years, traveling, etc., though we'll hear bits and pieces of that as we go on. (I figure the 2003 story will have to start with a huge flashback section, so I didn't want to begin this one that way) The next chapter will bring us to the early spring of 1950, in which most of the story will take place. Please take a moment to review. It's you readers, with your reviews, ideas, conversations and encouragement, who make this project so fun!**


	2. Clinicals

**Thank you all so much for the great reviews on Chapter 1! I'm glad everyone enjoyed the cover story. It turns out that getting a vampire through medical school is quite difficult! And speaking of, I want to offer a belated thank-you to catharticone. She is one of my favorite FF authors, and it was actually her writing style which inspired me to start my own account and try my first story. Some of my recent ideas were probably subconsciously inspired by her stories- like the hemophilia getting Edward through medical school, and a vampire biting himself to help Edward understand his gift (from her stories ****_Healing Arts_**** and ****_Touching Solitude_****, respectively). So thank you! (and keep your eye out, I think she may be beginning some ****_TS _****outtakes, and a new story soon! In the meantime, I highly, highly recommend her other stories.)**

**Also, just a little disclaimer, and plea for help: I try very, very hard to be historically accurate in my stories, and I hope I'm usually successful. I'm having trouble, though, figuring out the exact course of a medical student in 1950. I'm positive that the DMS grads of 1950 all had two more years at another medical school before the M.D. itself in 1952, but I can't figure out how many years of residency were required after that (assuming no specialty was entered). And also, I can't tell if the two final M.D. years at the "real" medical school would have included the first batch of residencies, or mostly classroom instruction. So if anyone knows either of those things, or feels like figuring it out for me, please let me know and I'll adjust the story accordingly. This story will stay in 1950, but I'd like to have a better grip on Edward's future plans, because they will be mentioned occasionally.**

**Disclaimer to my disclaimer: If you're still reading by this point, you'll be amused to hear that after all my blabbing about historical accuracy, this chapter has a little history fudge. It mentions Edward's upcoming White Coat Ceremony, in which med students are officially "robed" in their lab coats and make the transition from basic science learning to clinical learning. White Coat Ceremonies didn't exist back in 1950, but I don't care. I need it for my story, and that's that.**

* * *

**March 1950**

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. My name is Edward Cullen, and I'm a medical student at Dartmouth. I'll be observing Dr. Warren today, if that's all right with you."

Our patient scowled up at me, but nodded. "Fine by me, kid. What're you, fifteen?"

I smiled pleasantly, hiding my annoyance. I had already had this conversation three times today. But _fifteen_? Come on.

"Twenty, actually. How are you feeling today, sir?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I-"

Dr. Warren blew into the room, his cigarette smoke flying behind him like the tail of a kite as he tossed the chart onto the desk. "Morning, Mr. Potter. Let's take a look at that cough, shall we?" _Haven't got all day. Mrs. Scott's foot is going to take half the morning as it is. _

Mr. Potter dutifully sat up straight, breathing deeply and coughing on cue as Dr. Warren's stethoscope danced across his back. _Clear as a bell. Too bad for the kid._ He pulled back and nodded for me to take my turn, and I slid my own stethoscope off of my neck and listened.

Stethoscopes were one of those things that had been a challenge in med school. My hemophilia had helped me avoided a lot of things, but not that one. Fortunately, the palpation labs had come first, during Gross Anatomy. We were supposed to get used to feeling the outline and tone of the various muscles in the upper back, and I had panicked when William went to touch me.

"Lab group of three, remember?" I had reminded him, dodging his hands.

"What? It's not like I'm going to cut you," he had complained. _Wimp._

I hadn't been able to come up with a good excuse, and it was too late to skip the lab without causing a scene. So I had reluctantly allowed William to poke around my shoulder and spine, hoping that he would be too gentle to notice my granite-like skin tone. But he had been rather rough, determined to help me get over my skittishness.

"Good grief, Edward!" he exclaimed, trying to knead my upper trapezius into submission. "Could you be any _more_ tense? Relax!" _It's like trying to palpate a brick wall!_

"Sorry," I said, not having to fake my anxiety. "I'm just afraid that it's going to bruise. You know, with the blood thing."

"You're not going to bruise," he had promised. "I'm barely touching you. Now relax!"

I _couldn't_ relax- this was how my skin always felt. I had watched his mind carefully the rest of the day, making sure that no suspicions were forming. That night, Esme had had her best idea ever.

"I think he _did_ bruise you," she said thoughtfully, picturing my back covered with ugly purple-and-yellow smudges.

"Be serious," I scoffed. "He couldn't bruise me with a sledgehammer."

"No," she laughed. "I mean, if you let him _think_ he bruised you, they'll be less likely to touch you again. I could do it with makeup."

And so I had gone to school the next day, my upper back covered in convincing bruises, made entirely of Esme's eye shadow. William had been horrified.

"I had no idea, Edward! I'm so sorry!"

"Told you," I said sulkily, setting off another round of profuse apologies from William and snorted laughter from Nick.

I had graciously forgiven him, and they had never touched me again after that. So by the time the stethoscope lab came around, I was left to listen to my own heart. Which was a very good thing, because there was nothing to hear.

Auscultation was actually quite difficult for me, even now; my vampire hearing picked up all kind of crackles and impurities in any human's breathing, especially through a stethoscope. I was still learning to account for the limited auditory range that I was pretending to have. For example, Mr. Potter's lungs weren't "clear as a bell" today. Even when I had been standing across the room, I could hear the air whistling through his asthmatic bronchioles, and the wheezing had now been worsened by his physician's cloud of cigarette smoke. But I couldn't very well tell Dr. Warren that, since _he_ hadn't heard anything. I eased my conscience with the knowledge that Mr. Potter's asthma was indeed much better this week, even with this sub-threshold wheezing.

"Everything sounds good," I lied, flinging my stethoscope back into place.

"Clean bill of health, Mr. Potter," Dr. Warren pronounced as he headed for the door. "Good day now."

"Thanks, Doc." _Guess I'll bring up the gout next time. Why are doctors always so busy?_

We were out the door and flipping through the next chart by the time Mr. Potter got his shirt back on. I wished, not for the first time, that Dr. Warren had a bit more of Carlisle's compassion. But he was as good a physician as any, and I was grateful for the chance to shadow him.

Dartmouth hadn't lived up to its promise of not exposing us enough to patients. The program had improved in the last two years, and my classmates and I were already doing our part-time clinicals here at Mary Hitchcock Memorial, the little hospital that was attached to Dartmouth. I couldn't complain- the more clinical experiences, the better- but I hadn't expected to be exposed to real, bleeding patients this early on. At least here in the last semester of our two-year career at Dartmouth, we were still only shadowing our assigned physicians, and only on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. No lab coats yet, and no touching the patients except for observational purposes: using a stethoscope, poking around a sore abdomen, and so on. I just hoped that once I got my lab coat next week, people would stop asking me if I was fifteen. Fifteen!

Fortunately for me, Dr. Warren was on the outpatient rotation this semester. That meant less blood for me to deal with. But this next patient would be a bit of a challenge: diabetic foot wound. Dr. Warren would be debriding the wound with his scalpel, and there was going to be blood.

This would be my twenty-third exposure to blood in my clinicals, and I knew I would be all right. For one thing, there wouldn't be much of it. The whole reason that diabetics got their nasty wounds in the first placed was the tissue death that had already led to poor circulation and sensation in their extremities. Most of the wound would be dead and numb, bleeding only by the end of the treatment. And Carlisle had prepared me well.

We had spent the past two years working on it. Having "graduated" from the blood challenges two years ago, I had been visiting Cottage Hospital with Carlisle, shadowing him on his night shift. His coworkers admired my initiative, though their presence meant that we couldn't do it too often. They all knew that I was a med student at Dartmouth, and we couldn't have them wondering how I wasn't exhausting myself, staying up too many nights. But as frequently as possible, Carlisle had gotten me in so that I could practice being around fresh blood.

The first few nights, we had just stood in the hallway, so that I could adjust to the smell of the occasional bleeding going on in the Emergency Room down the hall. We had progressed, over time, to where I was able to stand right beside him. I was still obliged not to breathe at times, but for the most part, I was doing quite well. I had even stood and watched as a car accident victim had been brought in once, covered in blood. I hadn't breathed _that_ time. Of course, having Carlisle around made the blood more difficult, so my control was actually stronger here in my clinicals, where there were no other vampires around to double my thirst.

As Dr. Warren continued to peruse the chart, I saw William coming down the hall, following Dr. Patterson. His face looked green, and I saw in his memory that he had just watched Dr. Patterson set a fractured tibia over in Emergency.

We gave each other an encouraging nod as he passed. Our little group of three had managed, so far, to defy the odds: none of us had flunked out. William and I had worried about Nick, though, back in Gross Anatomy. Our classmates were dropping like flies by the second exam, and we had both worked hard to help Nick stay afloat. By the second semester, our class of 107 had already dwindled down to eight-three. And we had lost others, along the way. But Nick was holding his own these days, and now it was William I worried about: William, the Navy veteran who had thought me a sissy on the first day of med school, was squeamish.

He had been fine through anatomy- cadavers didn't seem to be a problem. But now that we begun our clinicals, his weak stomach was making an appearance. He was quickly reconsidering his goal of going into orthopedics, hoping to trade his dream for one that _didn't_ involve lots of cutting and bodily fluids. His new favorite was anesthesiology, which was a relatively clean profession, and a lucrative one. It was a newer specialty, and so it would probably only require a couple of extra years. But first, he had to make it through his general residencies- which would involve rotations through all sorts of "gross" situations. I empathized more than he could possibly understand.

I hoped we all made it- although I still wasn't sure what "it" would mean for me, personally. All three of us had already applied for the next step- transferring to other medical schools to complete our classroom instruction, getting our M.D.'s, and beginning our residencies. We were almost done with our classes and clinicals here at Dartmouth, ending with our White Coat Ceremony next week, a few more classes and exams, and our certificate of completion in June. Every one was buzzing with excitement, and my lab group was no exception.

Even though I had tried to keep my distance, Nick and William were the two closest things I had ever had to human friends. Besides our labs, we had "eaten" lunch together often, and even studied in the evenings and on weekends together, breaking up the tedium with a little basketball- though I mostly just shot hoops, being "afraid" to injure myself in a real game. We used each others' first names, and we had even taken to calling ourselves the Three Musketeers. Esme thought it was adorable. But unfortunately, being this close to two humans wasn't something I was going to be able to keep up. And so when I learned that they were both applying to Harvard Medical School, I had set my sights elsewhere. I wanted to stay closer to home, anyway.

After Dr. Warren handed me the chart, I flipped through it as well, dragging my eyes back and forth for the appropriate amount of time before closing it again.

"History," Dr. Warren prompted.

I took a deep breath. "Sixty-year-old female with a history of diabetes, morbid obesity and osteoarthritis. She has a non-healing wound on the plantar surface of her left MTP joint, times six months. Comes in for weekly debridement and wound inspection."

_Good. _"Prognosis?"

"The wound is worsening, with tunneling and necrosis extending to the sub-dermal structures. Bone involvement is suspected, and amputation is likely to be required, barring one last trial of penicillin."

"Be more specific."

"Tarsometatarsal amputation, and topical penicillin."

"Good, good." He shoved the door open, revealing a huge, graying woman reclining on the treatment bed, her left foot sticking off the end and a cane leaning against the wall. He entered and I followed, taking an experimental breath and relaxing my shoulders in relief. I could detect bacteria coming from the wound, as well as the sickly-sweet scent of her diabetic blood, but only the circulating kind. The wound wasn't bleeding. Yet.

"How're we doing, Mrs. Scott?" Dr. Warren asked, grabbing the stool and parking himself at the foot of the bed.

"Right as rain, Doc," our patient answered, waving her bandaged foot in salute. "I think it's coming along nicely this week."

"I'll be the judge of that," Dr. Warren said as he removed the last layer of dressing. The smell of bacteria flooded the small room, and my mentor sighed in disappointment as he poked at the wound with the blunt end of the scalpel. _This is worse than last week. Hope the kid's not a fainter, because I'm going in for the kill this time. Not that it'll help- this foot's coming off, and she'll be lucky with a tarsometatarsal. _

My throat twinged as he made up his mind to use the scalpel more aggressively than usual, in his final attempt to save the foot. But I kept my expression serene, and recited my usual line.

"Good morning, Mrs. Scott. My name is Edward Cullen, and I'm a medical student at Dartmouth. I'll be observing Dr. Warren today, if that's all right with you."

"Fine, fine!" Mrs. Scott said cheerfully. _These kids get younger every year. _"Good choice, Dartmouth. My father taught Economics there back in the twenties. Ouch!"

She jerked her leg back as Dr. Warren began to dig with the scalpel. It was a good sign that she had felt pain so early on- perhaps this amputation didn't need to happen after all. I forced the muscle of my gift to relax, and fully inhabited our patient's mind, feeling a flicker of pain on the bottom of my left foot.

Eleazar's breakthrough ten years ago had helped with more than my self-control. I now understood more about the nature of my gift, including the fact that it was ruled by my instincts, just like the rest of me. I had never felt the pain of Esme's or my siblings' transformations, or the pain of the humans I had killed; so I had naturally assumed that my gift didn't extend to things like that, thinking of myself as just a mind-reader. Of course, that theory had always been full of holes- I experienced my family's thirst, for example, when they went too long with hunting- and that was a painful stimulus. And of course, if I had thought about it, my theory wouldn't have explained how I was able to "see" and "hear" through the senses of others. But Eleazar, using his own gift-analyzing gift, had helped me understand that I really was a true telepath, with the ability to process any and every brain signal being experienced by those around me.

The reason I hadn't felt anyone's pain before, other than thirst, was because my gift had instinctually tensed itself against the painful stimuli that I was receiving from their brains, while still allowing the thoughts to filter through. He had also explained that thirst-while uncomfortable to experience- was instinctual itself, being a vampire, and so my gift had never _wanted _ to filter it out before. I had to actively block that particular input, and I had been doing so for years, without even realizing it. But all other painful sensations, like Mrs. Scott's discomfort right now, had to be actively sought out. I had learned, and practiced, how to relax that instinctual part of my gift that guarded me from feeling the physical pain of those around me. It was a talent that many physicians would have given their right arm for: the ultimate diagnostic tool.

It was difficult with humans, though. Just like all of their neural processes, the pain response was muted in their species. I had to play close attention to get an accurate read. I closed my eyes, rooting around in Mrs. Scott's brain until I could feel, in detail, which parts of her foot were dead and which were alive. Exactly which places hurt during the debridement, and which places were numb. It turned out that she actually had, in my opinion, a better chance of avoiding the amputation than Dr. Warren seemed to think.

"Have we tried silver?" I asked him hopefully.

"Hmm?" he grunted as he continued his attack.

"Silver nitrate, on the wound. Maybe it would-"

"Won't work."

"Why not?"

He turned to me with a disapproving we'll-talk-about-this-later look, and I shut up.

"What's that, Doc? Silver?" Mrs. Scott asked, wincing in pain again. The wound still wasn't bleeding yet, but it was going to happen soon. The foot certainly wasn't _healthy_- a normal person would have been screaming by now.

"Silver nitrate was used in wounds, a while back, before penicillin was invented," Dr. Warren muttered around his cigarette. "Penicillin's better, though."

"So it's working?" she asked brightly. _Please, please say it's working! _

Dr. Warren gave a non-committal shrug. "We'll see." _It's not working. _He made up his mind to dig a bit deeper into the wound, and get the blood flowing before applying the penicillin cream. I took a deep breath of bacteria-flavored air, and held it just as he made the cut. It wasn't exactly professional to hold my nose, and so I could still smell the blood, but I was fine. A little burn in the throat, and no venom. Of course, the bacteria made it easier. One bad scent didn't cancel a good one, but it helped.

I made it through the rest of the treatment without having to breathe again, and we wished Mrs. Scott good luck. As soon as we got into the hallway and closed the door behind us, Dr. Warren turned to me.

"First of all," he began, "Silver nitrate is expensive. Secondly, penicillin is fast replacing all those stone-age methods. Thirdly, I'll thank you to keep your second-year-student brainwaves to yourself in front of my patients. If you want to challenge my treatment plan, you do it in the hallway. You got that?"

"Yes, sir," I answered meekly.

"Good," he muttered as we continued down the hall to grab the next chart. _I don't know what old-fashioned fossil taught him that one, and I don't want to know. Still, the kid's doing well. Even if he is a know-it-all._

I hid my grin as I followed him. The "fossil" was, of course, Carlisle, who had been using silver nitrate on wounds since the 18th century. This would make for an interesting discussion when I got home this afternoon.

The rest of my morning went smoothly. No more blood, but I had listened to two more coughs, watched Dr. Warren remove a cast from a six-year-old girl's arm, and taken the history of a new patient all on my own. And our last patient had been an fascinating case: a local young man, one twenty-year-old John Lewis, who had been born with a malformed pulmonary valve. His heart condition was worsening, even at his young age, and he had been fainting quite often as things grew worse. I could hear the valve struggling before I even walked in the door. The prognosis wasn't looking good.

But World Wars had a way of jumpstarting medical research, and times were changing; a failing valve wasn't necessarily a death sentence anymore. Mr. Lewis was seeing Dr. Warren today, but only for testing in preparation for surgery. He would soon be travelling down to Yale-New Haven Hospital in Connecticut to be operated on by the famous William Glenn. And in an effort to make an impression on our patient and his famous surgeon, Dr. Warren was on his best behavior during the appointment. He actually _talked_ to this patient.

When all the chatting, testing, listening, and prodding was done, Dr. Warren declared our patient fit for surgery. "You'll be making history," he said encouragingly. Mr. Lewis wasn't encouraged.

"You mean he's never done this before?" he asked with a nervous swallow.

"Of course he has," Dr. Warrren assured him. _I think._ "What I meant was that Dr. Glenn is always making history, and you're one lucky fellow to have him."

"Yeah," Mr. Lewis echoed feebly, "Lucky." _I hope this is the right thing to do. The priest says heart surgery is a sin. Mother says it's too risky- that I should enjoy the time I have left. But on the other hand, I'll get fired soon if I keep fainting on the job- and it won't matter, if I'm dead in five years. And Janey…_

He broke into a sweat thinking of Janey, who had just accepted his proposal of marriage. _Janey thinks it's the right thing to do. To try. If there's any chance that I can have a normal life after this, maybe have kids…_

"Nervous?" asked Dr. Warren.

Mr. Lewis licked his lips. "A little."

Dr. Warren gave him his best "wise, benevolent physician" look- though it made him look like he was a schoolboy trying to impersonate Carlisle. "It'll be fine," he soothed, patting our patient on the knee firmly. "You're in good hands."

Mr. Lewis nodded, but his pulse and respiratory rate increased, and his thoughts continued to race with doubt and second-guesses. As Dr. Warren got up to ask a nurse for a paper bag, I leaned forward, catching my patient's eyes with my own. He sucked in his breath as he stared into my eyes like a deer in the headlights, and his thoughts evaporated.

The effect of a vampire's full stare was quite effective when luring one's human prey. It disables the human to the point of open awe and attraction, and even trust if desired. He or she is struck silent by the vampire's unnatural beauty, and drowned in the poisonous depths in his eyes- not that a vampire needs any help with killing, but it was useful. I had used it a few times, back in the day, when I was having trouble getting a particular criminal alone. But it didn't always have to be a prelude to murder; Carlisle used it all the time on his own patients, and even on his coworkers, when the need arose. I thought I would try it- now was as good a time as any. I held his gaze for a full ten seconds before speaking, keeping my eyes as gentle as possible.

"It's the right thing to do," I said, my voice smooth as silk.

Mr. Lewis nodded, and his heart rate began to slow. "Yes," he sighed. "It's the right thing to do." He snapped out of it as soon as I looked away, and he turned to Dr. Warren, whose eyebrows were practically up in his hair. Apparently, he had gotten a glimpse of the stare as well. "Next time you see me, Doc, I'll be training for a marathon," he said in a clear, confident voice.

Not bad for a first try.

"How'd you do that?" Dr Warren asked me, once we were in the hallway. "He was about to have a panic attack."

I shrugged. "I guess I just figured out what he needed to hear. We're the same age, after all. I guess if it was me, I'd be worried about it being the right thing, too."

Dr. Warren's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "My mother always said I was insightful," I added hastily.

He relaxed. "Guess she was right. And that'll help you, kid, in the real world. Always good to be able to read a patient's mind."

.

.

.

As I walked in the front door of our home that afternoon, I had an extra bounce in my step.

During my two years here at Dartmouth, a change had been coming over me. I had had my reasons for coming to medical school, and they had been good ones. I had wanted to emulate my father, and help him keep up with medical advances through me. I had enjoyed the subject matter. I had relished the challenge of entering a field that was notoriously difficult, especially for a vampire. I had been bored out of my mind, and wanted to avoid high school. I had wanted to improve my self-control. And, most importantly, I had wanted to try to atone for my murderous past by saving human lives. I still considered _redemption_ a murky subject, but atonement, for myself, was reachable. Possibly.

And those things were all still true. But a new goal had slowly been overshadowing the others. A goal which had surprised me.

I wanted to make a difference.

I wasn't Carlisle, and I never would be. I wasn't dripping with compassion, and I didn't love humans the way he did. And my personality was far less gentle, and generous, than his own. But whether this feeling had been hidden in me all along, or whether he had finally managed to pass it down to me, I had it now. I was here, in my second year of medical school, for a purpose. I didn't just feel the sin-driven need to save lives, anymore. I _wanted_ to save lives. I _wanted_ to help people, as unbelievable as it sounded.

Even though I was still an observer, doing just part-time clinicals, I felt that I could make a difference, like I had today with Mr. Lewis. And even if I never made it all the way through my residencies, with my youthful face, I could still make a difference while I was there. And, of course, I could do it all over again the next time we moved.

Carlisle and Esme were snuggling on the couch, listening to music together on the radio as they shared a book. "When are we going to get a television?" I teased, reclining on the floor beside them.

Esme made a face. "Don't be funny," she growled. "You know I don't want one of those things in my house."

Carlisle leaned down and kissed her forehead, suddenly switching his thinking over to Russian.

"What?"

"Nothing," he answered slyly, leaning back his head and closing his eyes. "So how were clinicals this morning?"

"Great," I answered. "Diabetic foot wound, arm cast coming off, pulmonary valve en route to surgical repair, a bunch of coughs… " I smirked, ready to get him back for blocking me out. "Oh, and Dr. Warren called you a fossil."

He opened his eyes. "That's a new one." _I've been called a lot of strange things, but that is definitely a new one._

"Okay, not you personally, but when I suggested using silver nitrate on the foot wound, his modern sensibilities got very offended and he was wondering what old-fashioned fossil had taught me about it."

Carlisle laughed. "Hopefully he assumed it was one of your professors, and not your three-hundred-and-ten-year-old father."

"Naturally."

"I'm lucky you didn't suggest putting honey on the wound. I hate to think what he would have called me _then_."

I wrinkled my nose. "Honey?"

"There have been all sorts of things used throughout the centuries, to fight infection in chronic wounds. And like all human institutions, the medical field has trends that ebb and flow. Right now, antibiotics are the rising star, but that'll change in a couple of centuries. And besides, son, you need to give Dr. Warren some credit. He's probably treated hundreds of chronic wounds, and you've seen what, three? To be honest, he was probably more annoyed by your presumption than your actual idea."

"But wouldn't the silver help? All he's tried is penicillin, and he's about to set up the surgery next week."

He shook his head sadly. "If she's that close to amputation, probably not."

"But she might not be as close as he thinks," I protested. "I could feel-"

"Stop right there," he said, holding up a hand. "Could Dr. Warren feel what you felt, using his telepathic senses?"

Esme laid a hand on his shoulder. "But if he can use his gift to help save that woman's foot-"

"No," he said firmly. "Edward, listen to me. Our enhanced senses make us excellent diagnosticians, and your gift gives you even more insight. But we can't risk exposure by basing our treatment plans off data that can't be obtained through human means." _Well, not while anyone's looking, that is._

"I know," I sighed. "It's just hard not to say something."

Carlisle stared down for a moment, seemingly studying Esme's hair. But he was thinking about various cases throughout the years- patients who had died under his care, often in the Emergency Room. Patients he could have saved, if no one had been looking.

"It gets harder," he said quietly. Esme sat up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"You saved me," she reminded him. "And our children."

The cloud in his mind disappeared as he broke into a huge grin. "Yes," he agreed, looking at each of us in turn. "I can think of a few happy endings. Four, in particular."

I looked up at my parents, who were losing themselves in each other's eyes. I couldn't disagree that they had found their happy ending. As for the rest of us- well, I was doing my best. And right now, it was just the three of us. Rosalie and Emmett were off on their own, though we hoped it wouldn't be forever. I did miss them. For now, though, I was enjoying these quieter moments in the late afternoons, just my parents and I. And Esme, especially, loved watching "her two doctors discuss their patients", now that I had a few, sort of.

Carlisle and I enjoyed it, too. My father was a fountain of medical wisdom, and I loved being able to process everything I had learned with him at the end of each day. And he, in turn, ate up everything I could tell him; he was as thirsty for new knowledge as any vampire. The War had brought new advances in almost every area of medicine, and I was the best source of information for him. He read voraciously and attended what conferences he could, but having a son in medical school was the best way to keep up. Doing this for him was the goal I that had had back in the very beginning, when I had first aimed for med school in 1931.

He finally pulled himself away from Esme's eyes. "Now," he said as he leaned forward and rubbed his hands together eagerly, "tell me all about this pulmonary valve."


	3. Fairy Wings and Playboy Cars

**After all that heavy medical and telepathic detail in that last chapter, this one will be light and fun :) **

* * *

I snapped the chart shut, feeling accomplished. I had just written my first doctor's note, which Dr. Warren had read and signed with only a few corrections.

"Next one's yours, kid," he said loftily, handing me the new chart.

"What do you mean?"

"Another cast coming off. You watched me do that one last week, so you're going to do this one. You're getting your lab coat tonight, after all." In addition to the chart, he laid the cast-cutting saw onto the high counter of the nurse's station, its sharp teeth gleaming in the artificial light.

"But we're not supposed to-"

He scowled. "Look, do you want to get some experience or not?"

"Of course."

"Well, hop to it then. And besides, you're really not treating the patient. Technically speaking, you're _untreating_ her." _I don't understand this kid sometimes._

I took the chart, frowning when I saw that our patient was another young girl- only five years old. She had broken her arm while trying to "fly" off of the dresser in her bedroom. Her time in the cast was up, and it was supposed to come off today.

Dr. Warren had just handed an oscillating saw to a vampire, and told him to apply it to the squirming arm of a five-year-old human girl. Was this a bad idea?

He took a long drag on his cigarette, frowning at me behind his ever-present cloud of smoke. "What're you waiting for?"

I stared at the saw again, trying not to imagine what could go wrong here. After all, if I was ever going to treat real patients, I had to start somewhere. I scooped up the saw and the chart, heading into the exam room and making my announcement before I could change my mind.

"Good morning, ma'am. My name is Edward Cullen, and I'm a medical student at Dartmouth. I'll be assisting Dr. Warren today, if that's all right." _Assisting._ I liked the way that word sounded.

The girl- her name was Mary- looked exactly like the kind of girl who would jump off a dresser and break her arm. Her pretty blue party dress was enhanced with a pair of cardboard wings, which had been cut from a box of Corn Flakes. Her barrettes were askew in her hair. She was already perched up on the exam table, laying on her back with her feet tapping on the wall, and animal noises coming out of her mouth while she flew a doll around in the air with her casted left arm.

Her childish mind was a wonder. I smiled as I observed the fantasy world in which the doll (who was secretly a fairy herself) was flying through the night to save the fairy princess from the evil alligator king. While she played, Mary was wishing that her mother had let her bring _both_ her dolls, so that she could have a battle. The mother was sitting down, holding Mary's crying baby brother and looking frazzled.

She raised her voice to be heard over the baby's cries. "Mary dear, sit up like a lady! I'm sorry, young man, what did you say?"

Dr. Warren came into the room, and to my rescue. "Morning, Mrs. Wilson. Edward here is one of our medical students, and he'll be taking care of the cast."

She looked at me worriedly. "Are you sure? He looks awfully young…"

Dr. Warren waved his hand dismissively. "He's one of our finest. Go on, Edward."

I approached little Mary with the saw, unsure how to begin. I couldn't remember having _ever_ spoken to anyone this young before. Ever. Why would I?

How did one address children? "Hello there, Mary. I see your arm is feeling better…"

Her animal noises increased in volume, and the doll flew across the room, to be caught in mid-air by the mother. Not bad, for a human catch.

I cleared my throat. "So, it's time to take the cast off today. May I see your arm, please?" I inched closer, reaching for the cast with my empty hand.

Mary finally noticed my presence, and her eyes caught immediately on the sinister-looking object in my other hand. Her animal noises ceased, to be replaced by screaming. The baby brother took a deep breath and added his own dissonant squall to the mix, hurting my ears. I retreated, looking anxiously to Dr. Warren for guidance.

"Now, Mary," the mother called over the racket, "Listen to the Doctor. We'll have a cookie at home afterwards, if you're a good girl."

Mary screamed louder, and Dr. Warren sighed in resignation. _It's no good. __I'll have to hold her down._"Edward…"

_That_ wasn't going to work. Children were squirmy enough, and throwing Dr. Warren's restraining arms into the mix wasn't going to help me. I needed her to be perfectly still if I was going to be wielding a rotating blade half an inch from her skin.

"Wait," I interrupted- I had an idea. I set the saw down behind me on the desk, and approached Mary again, who was clambering against the wall to get away from me as I sat on the exam table beside her. She didn't seem to be instinctually afraid of me; she was only picturing me cutting off her arm with a much larger version of my "scary saw". Of course, I was laughing maniacally as I wielded it.

"Mary," I said quietly, throwing every ounce of sweetness I could into the word. She stopped crying instantly, and turned to face me. I swung my legs up to sit fully beside her, and leaned casually against the wall. Her eyes finally met mine, and a tearful smile tugged at her lips as I favored her with the best Prince-Charming smile I could muster. She sighed, and her mind instantly replaced my evil persona with a fairy prince, complete with wings.

Without looking away, I held out my hand toward the mother. "May I have the doll, please? She's very important to this… ah, mission."

The mother stood and handed me the doll. I finally released Mary from my gaze, and studied the doll intently. "This is no ordinary doll," I began, and Mary's eyes grew wide. "I think that she may secretly be a fairy. If only she had wings…"

I took my notepad out of my pocket, ripping out a page. While Mary watched in awe, I quickly fashioned a set of tiny wings and affixed them to the doll's back.

"Much better," I pronounced. "Now, the mission is going to be to rescue the fairy princess from the evil alligator king. The trouble is, that if she's going to be, um, rescuing in the water, she'll need a boat, and fairy boats are _always_ made of plaster. Don't you agree?"

She nodded dumbly.

I looked around the room dramatically. "If only we had some plaster… oh! There's some!" I pointed to her arm, and moved my face downwards to catch her eyes again before she could get suspicious. "If we could get that off your arm, it would turn into _two fairy boats. _One for this fairy, and another for a friend."

Mary stuck out her arm. "I have another secret fairy at home," she announced.

"Well, that's perfect," I replied, sliding off the exam table. "I'm going to separate the boats now, using my… boat-maker. But you must be very still, or the boats will be mussed."

She nodded solemnly, and I explained that the boat-maker made a buzzing sound, just like huge fairy wings. I turned on the saw and took a deep breath, just in case the worst should happen. But Mary was a trooper, and she and the doll watched carefully as I turned her cast into two perfect doll-sized canoes.

I flicked the saw off, letting my breath back out. "Well done, Mary," I said in relief.

_Well done, Cullen_, Dr. Warren thought in awe. _I hope he's planning on pediatrics._

I shuddered inwardly at the thought. It was one thing to risk the lives of human adults with my ministrations. But despite my success just now with Mary, I didn't think I would ever care to endanger human _children_ on a regular basis. And besides, their screaming and crying was offensive to vampire hearing, to put it mildly.

But Mary wasn't finished with me yet. Before I could react, she jumped into my arms and planted a kiss right on my cold cheek. She giggled at the temperature, thinking that I felt like a Popsicle. Her acceptance did something strange inside my chest; I felt the most curious feeling of _warmth_.

"Well, everything looks good," Dr. Warren told the mother, after poking quickly around Mary's arm, which was still wrapped around my neck.

"And I think this little fairy has definitely earned her cookie," I added, gingerly removing Mary from my torso. She gathered up the halves of her cast and the doll, hopping down from the exam table with her treasures. She was already imagining the rescue mission, now enhanced with her new boats.

I headed out behind Dr. Warren, and was just closing the door when Mary blurted out, "goodbye Doctor Popsicle!"

My mentor sputtered out a cloud of smoke. "Doctor what?"

I closed the door behind me, grinning and shrugging in confusion. "That was interesting," I said.

"I'll say," he replied. "You never told me you were so good with kids. You should go into Peds."

"I might," I surprised myself by saying. "I just might."

.

.

.

_"__You're _in a good mood," William scowled as we headed for the front entrance of the hospital, two hours later.

"Great clinicals this morning. What's the matter with _you_?"

"Nothing," he said stiffly. But by the greenish tint to his face, he must have seen something disgusting this morning in Emergency. I wished I could say something helpful, but I couldn't; William had never confessed his squeamishness to Nick and I.

William shoved the main door open, and I sighed as I rocked back a step: full sunlight. Before he could turn around, I swiped my stethoscope off of my neck and hid it behind my back.

He finally finished turning around. "Come on, we'll be late for class."

"You go ahead," I said lightly. "I think I left my stethoscope in one of the exam rooms."

He just shrugged and headed onwards. I peeked up at the treacherous blue sky, dismayed to see that the next bunch of clouds were a good fifteen minutes off.

This was ridiculous. I was one of the most powerful creatures on earth. I was a successful med student. I had just charmed a child into trusting me, and been given my first human hug ever. But I couldn't walk the three hundred feet to my lecture hall, because the sun was shining. This had happened far too often since starting my clinicals, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I stood by the entrance as I waited, tapping my fingers against my pockets impatiently and nodding to people as their went in and out. The sun finally winked out, and I dashed to the lecture hall, hoping to slip in the back door without being noticed.

No such luck. Dr. Patterson interrupted his pharmacology lecture as soon as I appeared in the last row of seats, directly behind Nick and William.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Cullen!" he called loudly, making everyone shift in their seat to look back at me. "Since you don't seem to feel the need to attend my lectures with _any_ amount of consistency, perhaps you'd like to enlighten us all as to the use of lithium salts in recent pharmaceutical history." _Take that!_

"Lithium salts were historically used to treat gout," I replied, meeting his gaze defiantly. "They were later prescribed as a table salt in hopes of reducing hypertension. Both uses have been banned, due to an unacceptable rate of mortality. But last year, it was discovered that lithium may have some role in subduing mania in the insane."

Dr. Patterson harrumphed his displeasure at my ready answer, and continued his lecture. When he was finished and everyone rose to leave, he held up his hand, waving a sheet of paper triumphantly. "Not so fast. I have an announcement which you will all be pleased to hear."

William sighed in front of me. _Not all of us_, he muttered mentally. Dr. Patterson was his mentor at clinicals, and so William must already know what the announcement was. But I couldn't pick it out of his mind- he was too focused on keeping his lunch down.

Dr. Patterson waited until the room grew quiet. "You all know that Dartmouth is committed to increasing your clinical experiences. So I am pleased to announce that we have contracted an agreement with Yale University, which will allow each of you one slot to observe in the OR down at Yale-New Haven Hospital. You'll be going in pairs, since we have limited time to squeeze this in before your time here at Dartmouth is completed. Though I understand that some of you are headed to Yale anyway, so this will be an special opportunity for you. They're doing some interesting research with new procedures down there.

"You will all please sign up for your slots before leaving today. I have been given a list of procedures which are scheduled throughout the next three weeks, and you can try to find one that follows your area of interest."

He laid the paper down on the podium with a flourish, and we all hopped out of our seats to sign up. William was shaking his head mournfully, but Nick was buzzing with excitement as he read down the list.

"Observing surgery, this early on! Look, there's a shoulder next Wednesday! It's too bad we can't all three go together."

"That's okay," William said, having spotted an empty space next to "Outpatient: removal of cancerous lesion, R. hand".

Perfect! Nice and quick, and a tiny incision. And probably in a different wing from the regular OR, and the blood being spilled there. Just what the doctor ordered for a vampire and his squeamish lab partner.

"William," I said quickly. "Let's take the hand, shall we?" Before he could respond, I snatched the paper off the podium and filled in our names. He nodded in relief.

"I don't understand you two," Nick said as we all walked out to the parking lot together. The clouds were cooperating now, at least. "There were tons of procedures on that list. Why did you want the most boring one? It'll be over before you're done blinking!"

"I'm interested in hands," I lied.

"And I'm interested in skin cancer," William lied.

Nick just snorted his disapproval, and we all stepped off the curb, about to part ways to our cars. But we all froze as we heard the roar of an accelerating engine and the screech of brakes, and Nick and William gasped as the bumper of a brand-new Cadillac jerked to a stop three inches from my knees.

"Watch where you're going!" Nick shouted at the driver. "What a jerk! He could have killed you, Edward!" _He would have bled to death!_

Not really, but I appreciated the sentiment. I turned my head to scowl at the idiot who seemed to think hot-rodding was appropriate in a school parking lot. But I gasped in genuine surprise and ran over, flinging the driver's side door open.

"Rosalie! Emmett!" I cried, pulling my sister out and sweeping her up in my arms.

She buried her face in my shoulder. _I've missed you!_

I breathed in her scent and then let her go, turning to Emmett, who was jumping over the hood to greet me. Nick and William were frozen, each with one foot still back on the curb and their mouths hanging open as they stared at Rosalie.

"Hey little bro!" Emmett said loudly, and gave me a surprisingly gentle hug. _You're lucky you've got hemophilia. __Just wait 'til the humans aren't looking!_

"I don't believe this!" I said with a huge grin as I pulled away. "I had no idea you two were coming for a visit!"

"Well, a little bird told us you were having your White Coat Ceremony tonight," Rosalie said.

Nick and William finally came back to life, then. "Edward! Aren't you going to introduce us?" Nick asked. _Please, PLEASE be single! _I could practically hear them drooling behind my back.

"Put them out of their misery, will you?" I whispered to Rosalie. She smirked, reaching up to comb her fingers through her hair, flashing her wedding ring in plain sight.

I turned around to find my friends staring at Rosalie's hand in sorrow. Nick was especially disappointed. _Circled. __What a cruel world._

"Sorry," I said aloud. "This is my sister, Rosalie McCarty, and her husband Emmett. They've been living down in New York City since they got married a couple of years ago. Rosalie and Emmett, meet Nick Lawrence and William Cummings. Fellow med students and the best lab partners in the world."

"How do you do," Rosalie said gracefully, letting go of me and linking her arm through Emmett's. Nick just sighed, but William had already transferred his longing to Rosalie's car.

"That's a real screamer," he said admiringly. "What is it, a Series 62?"

"That's right," Rosalie cooed, caressing the hood. Nick and William both gulped, for different reasons.

"I hope you two have been taking care of Edward," Emmett said with a mischievous wink in my direction. "He's always been a bit on the fragile side." _Ha ha!_

William blushed, remembering the day he had bruised me.

"I'm fine, Emmett," I growled, picking up his game. "They won't even let me play basketball properly."

"So, you're coming to the Ceremony tonight?" Nick asked Rosalie hopefully.

"Yes. Dad told me about it the last time we spoke on the phone, and so we thought we'd come surprise Edward." _And it worked! __You should have seen your face!_

"See you tonight, then. Have a good time with your family, Edward." William tugged on Nick's arm, and he finally allowed himself to be led away.

I turned back to my siblings. "Carlisle knows you're here?"

"We haven't gotten to the house yet," Rosalie said. "But he told us about the ceremony like I said, and he knows we were coming to surprise you."

"It worked! How did you two manage to sneak up on me like that?"

"We used one of Eleazar's tricks," Emmett said proudly. "We turned up the radio and only thought about the lyrics of the music we were listening to. So what language has Carlisle been thinking in to hide this from you?"

"Russian."

He put on a shocked look. "Carlisle, a commie? I don't believe it."

Rosalie slapped his arm. "That's not funny." Then she began looking around the parking lot. "Where's your car? I thought Carlisle said you still had the Lincoln."

"I do, but I don't drive it much. I got a new car two years ago, when we moved here."

She frowned. "Why didn't you just keep driving the Lincoln?" _This is what happens when I'm not around. __You didn't take care of it, did you?_

"No, it's fine," I said defensively. "It's just that I didn't want to be driving around a nineteen-year-old car. It's a bit old-fashioned looking, don't you think?"

"Old fashioned?" Rosalie hissed. "It's a classic!"

"Maybe someday. Right now, it's just old-fashioned. Anyway, I couldn't bring myself to part with it. Want to see the new one?"

I led them over to my pride and joy: a 1948 Jaguar XK120. Emmett whistled and Rosalie's jaw simply dropped open.

"Carlisle let you buy _this_?" she asked in wonder. "I thought you were supposed to be an impoverished medical student!"

"Please," I scoffed. "I'm Ivy League, remember?"

"So, how fast?" Emmett asked eagerly.

I leaned my hands back on the hood and gave them a devilish grin. "Let's just say that they named it the 120 for a reason."

Rosalie let out a strangled cry, and shoved me off the hood so that she could open it.

"You're joking, right?" Emmett asked.

"Nope. And if you take the windscreen off, it goes faster. So, how long are you two staying?"

Rosalie came back out from under the hood, glancing at Emmett before speaking. "We thought we'd stick around for a while," she said slowly.

I looked back and forth between the two of them, gathering bits of the truth from their thoughts. "You're broke, aren't you?"

"In the red, as of last month," Emmett admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Rosalie's discovered charge cards."

"What can I say?" Rosalie sighed. "I like high living."

"And brand-new Cadillacs?" I teased.

"That too," she admitted. "Though to be fair, we bought that _before_ we were in debt."

"That's why we came here first," Emmett said. "We were hoping you could help us figure out how to tell Carlisle and Esme. You know, soften the blow." _Do you think they'll be mad?_

"I doubt it," I said honestly. "I think they'll just be glad to have you home. Although you should get rid of those charge cards, Rosalie."

"But-"

"If you're moving back home, that means you'll be using their money again, right?" She nodded. "Well, it's a bit unfair to keep racking up debt, don't you think?"

She frowned. "I suppose so. To be honest, I miss being at home. It was nice being on our own for a while, but it's just not the same." Emmett nodded his agreement. "Still, it's going to be odd being a 'kid' again."

"_I'm_ looking forward to it," Emmett announced. "It was fun having a job, but I think I like school better."

"You're kidding," I laughed.

"No, I'm serious! C'mon, let's get home."

"Wait," I said, holding up my hand. "Before Carlisle and Esme ask, how do you two plan on paying off the debt you already have?"

Emmett shrugged. "I guess I'll have to get a job up here for a while. We're about three thousand in the hole."

Now it was my turn to drop my jaw. "Three _thousand?_ Emmett!"

_I know, I know._

At least Rosalie had the good grace to look a _little_ guilty. It was clear from both their thoughts that Emmett had tried half-heartedly to reign in her spending, but that it hadn't worked.

"Well," I said, staring straight at her, "I suppose you could work it off. But it would be a lot easier if you would just sell the Cadillac."

"Sell the- Edward!" _It's my new baby! __I can't do that!_

"What? You didn't seem to have any trouble selling the Rolls-Royce back in '46. Which tore my heart out, by the way."

She rolled her eyes. "Says the man with two playboy cars."

"Rosalie, It's obvious that you're the one who spent herself into debt. Why should Emmett have to work it all off? Maybe you should be the one to get a job."

She just made a face.

I crossed my arms. "Sell it, then."

"Come on, Rose," Emmett begged. "Then we can go to college together right off the bat."

Rosalie let out a long-suffering sigh. "I suppose I could use the Lincoln for a while. It probably needs a little love, anyway."

Emmett kissed her on the cheek, relieved to be off the hook about working. "That's my girl. Come on, let's go see if we can sneak up on Esme, too."


	4. The Rod of Asclepius

**One more light and sweet chapter before things get down to business! Thank you to Helena Mira for the geographical help about the Dartmouth area.**

* * *

Rosalie and Emmett followed me to our home. Even from my own car, I could easily hear their thoughts behind me as we drove, and I savored the familiar feel of their minds. I hadn't seen my brother and sister for almost two years, and even that had been just a brief visit, when Emmett had taken four days off of work. After the War had ended, they had finally gotten up the courage to tell Carlisle and Esme that they wanted to live on their own for a while, though they didn't think it would be permanent.

Esme had been heartbroken, but she hadn't protested their decision, except with her silent, unshed tears. She had been afraid that history was repeating itself, and for the first two weeks that they were gone, I had been bombarded with her memories of my departure in 1927.

Carlisle hadn't been so worried. He recognized that Rosalie and Emmett were older than I was, and that it was only natural for them to live as "adults", if they wanted. And so he had given them his blessing, and a sizeable amount of cash with which to start off. He had made it clear, though, that living as adults meant supporting themselves. They were not to request any further funds, except in case of an emergency. And he had also made it clear that he would miss them dearly, and that he did hope for their return, when they were ready.

Our first phone call from them had lessened Esme's worry. They had found an apartment in New York City, a ground floor unit which had plenty of shade surrounding it. This way, Rosalie would be able to continue her work on the Rolls-Royce, day or night. Their unit was in the rear of the building, and the carport would shield Rosalie's unorthodox activities from the eyes of their fellow tenants.

However, it hadn't been long before they had been obliged to sell the Rolls-Royce. Emmett had found a job in construction, but with the few details we had been given, we inferred that Carlisle's starter money had already run out, and that Emmett's salary wasn't cutting it. At least Rosalie had restored the Rolls-Royce beyond perfection, and had no doubt gotten a hefty sum for it.

That was the last time that they had shared any financial details with us, though they had always kept in touch otherwise. Carlisle was sometimes concerned about their spending, but he had joked that he wasn't going to lose any sleep over it. They had always kept in touch over the phone, and had visited once, when we had first bought the house in the spring of 1948. As we drove home now, I imagined that he wasn't going to be too surprised with their bankruptcy.

We pulled into the driveway, to find Esme working in the front yard. As soon as she saw her children emerging from the Cadillac, she let out a shriek and flew over to them so fast that she knocked Rosalie flat onto her back. For once, my sister forgot about her hair and wept into her mother's shoulder as they hugged each other fiercely.

"You're here, you're here!" Esme sang as she jumped up to accept Emmett's hug. He laughed along with her and spun her around several times. Carlisle was outside by this time, as well, and grinning widely as he embraced each of his older children in turn.

"The house looks great!" Emmett said as he began to look around. "Esme, you really know how to spruce up a place."

But Esme hadn't heard his compliment. She was peering into the back seat of the Cadillac. "This is quite a lot of luggage for a weekend visit," she said hopefully. "Are you staying into next week?"

Emmett looked nervously to me, and I nodded my encouragement. "Actually," he said, clearing his throat loudly, "we'd like to move back in- if that's all right."

Esme let out another delighted shriek and tackled Emmett this time in her exuberance. And to everyone's surprise, Carlisle burst out _laughing_.

"I'm sorry," he coughed, containing himself quickly. "But would I be correct in assuming that part of your change of heart is due to financial difficulties?"

"Flat broke," Emmett sighed.

"But this is not a change of heart," Rosalie said quickly. "We've been missing home, more and more. And we were already talking about moving back before we got, um, evicted."

"_Evicted?"_ Carlisle asked, all trace of humor gone. "Do you mean you're actually in debt to the apartment complex?"

"And a few other places," Rosalie admitted. "But we're going to pay it off. We'll take care of it."

Esme was as skeptical. "How exactly are you going to take care of it?" she asked.

Emmett nodded towards their car. "We're going to sell the Cadillac," he announced. "That should cover it."

"And I'm going to cut up my charge cards," Rosalie sighed.

"Good," Carlisle said firmly. "Those things are nothing but trouble." _Especially for those with an insatiable appetite for expensive clothing and social outings._

I snorted out a laugh at his thought, and we all went to help unload the car. We had gotten most of the boxes out, when I heard the rare sound of Esme growling.

"What is _this?"_ she demanded, holding up a small television set.

Emmett shrugged, sending me a wink as he snatched it from her hands. Before she could stop him, he took it into the house.

"Times are changing, dear," Carlisle soothed, planting a kiss on her forehead. "The children will have their television set, just like their human peers. Rosalie, you and Emmett can take the bedroom at the end of the hallway upstairs- just move those other boxed up into the attic, please."

Rosalie nodded and went into the house to help Emmett.

I waited until the front door closed before turning back to my parents. "This is the best surprise ever," I said happily. "And it looks like you got more than you bargained for!"

"I couldn't be happier," Esme said truthfully. _Except for that awful television._ "What mother doesn't want all her children around her?"

"And I must admit, I thought this might happen eventually," Carlisle said. "I was just telling some of my coworkers at the hospital that my two older children would be coming for a visit this weekend, and that I wondered if they were staying afloat financially. You might be surprised at how common today's situation is- I had plenty of sympathy from the other doctors."

He stopped his story abruptly, but I grinned as I saw the rest in his thoughts. "Tell her, Carlisle," I teased.

Esme waited expectantly, and Carlisle hesitated briefly before confessing. "I may have… made a small wager on the likelihood of Rosalie and Emmett moving back in this weekend," he admitted.

Esme clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "Carlisle Cullen, shame on you! How much did you just lose in this foolishness?"

He cleared his throat, looking just as contrite as Emmett had earlier. "I made twenty dollars, actually."

.

.

.

We only had a couple of hours before it was time to head back to Dartmouth for the ceremony. Rosalie was already in the upstairs bathroom using up the hot water, and Emmett was setting up the television set in the living room.

"We have a perfectly good radio," Esme protested. And although I didn't say anything, I was a bit skeptical as well; I had observed many of my fellow students thinking about various television shows they had watched, and I didn't see the draw.

Emmett finally got it working, though the picture was a bit unreliable. He turned the dial, clicking through four or five stations. All at once, the living room was filled with the lively, familiar notes of _Hot House_.

"Hold it right there!" I said, grabbing his arm.

"What? This is just the Milton Berle show," Emmett said.

"That's Lionel Hampton!" I answered excitedly, pointing to the screen. "Esme, come look at this!"

Esme reluctantly joined us, but a smile lit up her face as she saw our favorite group performing. According to Emmett, this was something called a variety show, in which various celebrities came and spoke, or performed, in brief snatches, one right after the other. It seemed that the Lionel Hampton Orchestra had been invited this time, and I watched in awe as he merrily played his vibraphone on the screen.

"It's like he's right in our living room!" Esme said excitedly. I had finally, after years of effort, converted Esme into loving jazz. Swing had been the key, and she had soon joined Rosalie and I into keeping up with the latest recordings. Of course, the genre was always changing, and I personally wasn't a fan of the "revolutionary" sounds that men like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie were introducing. I found their style too chaotic and dissonant for my taste. But even as the big bands were beginning to dwindle in popularity, smaller groups were still finding fame, and I particular enjoyed the direction that Lionel Hampton was moving in: Rhythm and Blues. But this song was more Esme's style, and she had a soft spot for the vibraphone, which she described as "wind chimes dancing to Swing".

But neither of us had ever seen him perform live before, and we were both instantly sold on the benefit of television: being able to watch our favorite musicians into our living room. As soon as the song changed, I kicked aside the moving boxes and soon had Esme twirling and laughing to the rhythmic energy of the _Brant Inn Boogie_.

"So can we keep the television?" Emmett shouted over the music. Esme nodded absently, her eyes trained on her own feet as we danced, weaving in and out of the moving boxes.

When the music ended, Emmett switched it off. "When do we need to leave?" he asked me.

"Six-thirty. And no, the hot water won't last that long."

While we waited for Rosalie to finish her hour-long shower, Emmett entertained us with stories from his construction job. His biggest challenge was always to appear as weak as the humans- a delicate task, when one was operating a jackhammer. He had enjoyed the work for a while, but even after he had gotten bored, he was obliged to keep working to support Rosalie's spending, and to pay the rent.

"Perhaps she should have been the one working, since she was the one spending it all," Carlisle mused.

"She tried once to get a job at a body shop," Emmett said with a grin. "They just laughed at her."

"That's a shame," Esme said. "They had no idea what they were passing up. And besides, women have held all kinds of jobs lately."

"Rosie the riveter," Emmett laughed, smirking up at the ceiling.

"I heard that!" Rosalie called from the shower.

"Well, regardless," Carlisle continued, "if you two ever want to try this again, we're going to have to sit down for a long talk about how to live on a budget." _And how to say no to your wife._ "I still don't see how you two managed to deplete the starter money I gave you so fast!"

"The wedding," Emmett muttered under his breath.

Carlisle blinked. "What wedding?"

"Rosalie wanted to get married again. So we flew to Vegas and pretended we were eloping."

Carlisle just blinked again, but I doubled over laughing as I watched the charade fly through my brother's mind. "Emmett, you do realize that most vampires don't even get married _once!"_

"I think it's romantic," Esme said with a warm smile. _Of course, they could have done it without going bankrupt…_

He shrugged. "She wanted to do it."

I just punched him in the shoulder. "You're an indulgent pushover, Em."

"I know," he said gleefully. _Don't worry, we'll invite you to the next one._

"I should hope so," I said loftily.

"Shower's free!" Rosalie announced as she walked into the living room. Emmett disappeared and I fondly watched my sister toweling off her hair. I was relieved to see that she at least hadn't replaced the engagement ring I had pilfered from my human mother's jewelry. She and Emmett had been married a good fifteen years now, and she was still glowing with the extra beauty that his love had given her. She was still as vain, selfish and spoiled as ever- Emmett obviously wasn't helping- but I loved her dearly. I closed my eyes, savoring the four minds of my family as they tangled in my own; we were complete again.

"I hear congratulations are in order," I said smoothly, as I opened my eyes.

Rosalie came out from under her towel. "What?"

"The wedding."

She grinned. "I figured that if we keep going to school over and over, why not get married occasionally, too?"

Carlisle raised his eyebrows. _Occasionally? __I hope she isn't planning on making this a habit. __I'm not made completely of money, after all._

I couldn't resist. "Rosalie was just thinking how nice it was to be under your roof again, so that you can pay for the next one."

Rosalie shrieked and snapped her towel at me expertly. "I was _not_ thinking that!"

Emmett reappeared with his arms around Esme and a devilish smirk mirroring my own. "Really? You guys are going to throw us another one?" _Ha ha! __Good one, Eddie!_

I dodged the second snap, laughing at her bared teeth. Esme just sighed in contentment, thinking how nice it was to have all of her children back home, even if we were up to our old antics already.

_This is the way it should be_, she thought warmly as she relaxed into her oldest son's arms. _My life has never felt so full!_

.

.

.

The ceremony didn't take too long. Our class, which was now down to seventy-two, was paraded up onto the stage one at a time to be given our lab coats. When my turn came, the dean stood on one side of me and Dr. Warren on the other. As the two men slipped the brand-new, starched lab coat up onto my shoulders, I glanced up and gave a grateful nod to my family, who were sitting near the back of the auditorium. They each sent me their loving thoughts and applauded as I stepped down and returned to my place with my classmates. When we had all been "robed", we were all asked to remain standing.

The dean shuffled to the podium, and his approving gaze swept over us as he leaned toward the microphone. "Congratulations to all of you. As you young men draw toward the completion of your time at Dartmouth, I pray that you will all continue to demonstrate the same aptitude and responsibility that you have shown thus far. On this solemn occasion of commencement into the clinical phase of your training, I ask you to pledge that oath which your forebears have always sworn."

We all raised our right hands and recited the sacred words of the Hippocratic Oath together, and I smiled as I heard Carlisle reverently whispering the words along with me.

_Now being admitted into the profession of medicine, I solemnly pledge to consecrate my life to the service of humanity._

_I will give respect and gratitude to my deserving teachers. I will practice medicine with conscience and dignity. The health and life of my patient will be my first consideration. I will hold in confidence all my patient confides in me. I will maintain the honor and the noble traditions of the medical profession._

_My colleagues will be as my brothers. I will not permit considerations of race, religion, nationality, party politics or social standing to intervene between my duty and my patients._

_I will maintain the utmost respect for human life from the time of its conception. Even under threat I will not use my knowledge contrary to the laws of humanity. These promises I make freely and upon my honor._

The actual words of the Oath were quite different than the ones Carlisle had first sworn hundreds of years ago; this was the newest incarnation, penned only two years ago in Geneva. And this version was much less colorful and pagan than the original, though the sentiments were the same.

The audience broke into applause, and we all broke formation to congratulate each other. Nick and William clapped each other on the back, and then delicately tapped my shoulder, as they were accustomed to doing. Nick was just introducing William and I to his parents when his mouth suddenly went dry. I turned around to follow his gaze to find my sister gliding toward us, the sea of my classmates parting for her as she walked. She was devastating all of them with her emerald-green velvet evening dress, which made her hair look like it was glowing. Emmett was following her like a bodyguard, standing a full head above most of the crowd.

"Good evening," Nick stammered. His father was gawking just as badly, much to the annoyance of his mother. Emmett just grinned proudly; he enjoyed Rosalie's admirers almost as much as she did.

"Congratulations," Rosalie said as she delicately swept her eyes over all three of us.

"Thanks," I said loudly, in an effort to get my friend breathing again. "Where'd Carlisle and Esme go?"

"Carlisle's off chatting with some of the other doctors," she said absently. Then her gaze fell on William again. "Oh! I met you earlier today, when we came to surprise Edward. William, wasn't it?" She leaned back into Emmett's shoulder. "Remember William, darling? He was the one interested in the Cadillac."

Before William could protest, Rosalie turned and stared into his eyes. "It's such a shame, but we really do need to part with it. I'm afraid I'm ever so clumsy with money…" She blinked once, slowly.

William's jaw just dropped; he was a goner. And his father, who also been caught in the crossfire of Rosalie's magic, was already thinking about shuffling his accounts so that he could make it work.

"Shame, shame," I chided softly. Rosalie didn't bat an eyelash. By the time Carlisle and Esme joined us, William's father had already promised him the Cadillac as a heading-to-Harvard gift. They drifted away as soon as Rosalie released them from her gaze, and Carlisle looked curiously at us while he swished around his half-empty glass of champagne.

"We sold the Cadillac," Rosalie told our parents brightly. "They're coming to get it tomorrow."

"Back in black," Emmett hummed, sharing a discreet high-five with his wife.

"Well done, Rosalie!" Esme said proudly.

"Well done, my foot," I muttered. "Have you been taking lessons from Tanya?"

Rosalie frowned back at me. _That's not funny, Edward._

"You're right, I didn't mean that," I sighed. "It's just that they don't have as much money as you seem to think."

"Well, they will soon enough," she sniffed. "And don't tell me _you_ don't ever charm humans to get what you want."

"I only use that power for good," I said defensively. I told them the story about little Mary, and Rosalie was genuinely touched.

_I really am proud of you_, she thought when she had caught my eyes. _And I wouldn't have missed this for the world._

.

.

.

When we got home, Emmett announced that it was time for refreshments. We all agreed that a family hunt was in order, and went inside to change first. As I shrugged out of my new lab coat and was wondering where to hang it, Esme snatched it out of my hands.

"I'll take that," she said as she zipped down the hall to her own bedroom, blocking my mind as she went.

We went up to the White Mountains to hunt. Our house was actually located a bit south of Hanover, just outside of White River Junction, Vermont. This lengthened Carlisle's commute by a few miles, but the house was comfortably situated, well out of town and equidistant from three decent forests. But we hunted in the White Mountains most frequently, due to the bear population. Emmett was thrilled.

"Not bad," he mused as we drove back home. "Not bad at all." _Sure beats living in the city. __Still, it's no Washington State._

"I know what you mean," I sighed. We all missed our home back in Hoquiam, and I had caught everyone, at various times, wondering if we might return there someday. In more populated areas like this, we usually ended up driving to our hunting destinations. I missed the freedom, and the running, that living in such a sparsely populated area had brought.

I also missed the house that we had had there. Now that Rosalie and Emmett were back with us, things would be a bit cramped. Esme, of course, was having the time of her life running through possible renovations in her head. Unfortunately, our property wasn't big enough this time to build my siblings a honeymoon cottage. I just hoped that having them back at home was going to work out.

.

.

.

My fears were soon laid to rest. It seemed that Rosalie and Emmett had finally calmed down a bit, and that our house was in no danger of being destroyed any time soon. Rosalie was sad to see her precious Cadillac go on Saturday morning, but she got right to work on the Lincoln.

"Esme, I need to go!" I called as I adjusted my tie on Tuesday morning. "And I'm supposed to start wearing my lab coat in clinicals today!"

"Just wait a minute," she called back. "Carlisle is supposed to get home before you go."

I soon heard my father's mind, and his car, pulling up in the driveway. I tossed my stethoscope over the back of my neck and gathered my books as I headed out the door. "Esme, I really have to-"

My parents were standing side by side and smiling at me proudly. Carlisle still had his own lab coat on- dingy and worn, compared to the crisp white one that Esme held, neatly draped over her arms. She stepped forward and helped me into it. As she adjusted it on my shoulders and lifted my stethoscope back on top, I saw that she had embroidered _E. Cullen_ below the left lapel.

"I'm saving some of the thread," she told me in a trembling voice. "For the M.D."

Carlisle had his own addition to make. He reached up to the lapel itself, fastening a pin on it. It was the ancient Rod of Asclepius, the familiar serpent winding up the rod as the symbol of medicine.

"You have sworn a solemn oath," he said quietly. "One that I know you will uphold. You can't _begin_ to know how proud I am of you, Edward." _Not even with your ability. __You can't know how it felt to watch you swear the Oath on Friday night._

Both of them drew me in for a close embrace, but Esme pulled away suddenly.

"Oh!" she cried, running into the house. "Just one more minute, Edward!"

I grinned as I saw her plan. "Stay put, Dr. Cullen," I ordered, keeping my arm wrapped around his back. In a few seconds, Esme returned with her camera and snapped a picture of us in our matching attire, standing and smiling side by side.


	5. Change of Plans

**I'm sorry for the delay! My internet is out at home, and the Verizon guys aren't coming until Friday. So I came here to Starbucks to get this chapter out- I will have to catch up with reviews and other stories when my internet is fixed at home. Enjoy! (and yes, Alice and Jasper are coming soon... I can't promise if it'll be in two chapters but soon!)**

* * *

I could never have predicted the difference that wearing a simple white coat could make. I no longer heard any patients wondering if I was too young, and I now had nurses and female patients doing double takes every time I walked by. My time in medical school had been mostly devoid of female interaction, and I had enjoyed the respite from their gawking. At least here, Dr. Warren's constant hovering protected me from any verbal unpleasantness.

Now that I had officially been cleared to do so, he was letting me handle more and more of the patient care as we made our rounds. He never left my side, but I gradually did more of the talking, and, occasionally, portions of our examinations and treatments. I was more grateful than ever that I had not been assigned to the Emergency Room, like William had; he was already being expected to stitch up bleeding patients over there. It was good for him, and he was slowly getting over his squeamishness, but I wasn't quite sure if I was ready for something like that. At any rate, I would have the summer to further tighten my control, and perhaps Carlisle would let me do some patient care alongside him on his night shift, if no one was watching.

Dr. Warren was also exposing me to as many children as possible. He was convinced that I was destined to become a pediatrician, and I couldn't deny the warm feeling of satisfaction I felt when I was able to treat the children. I knew his dream for me wasn't possible, though; the risk was too great, and I would probably never be able to go into _any_ specialty, considering how old I would have to appear to reach that level of training. Later that week, I was explaining this to Rosalie and Emmett.

"It's not fair," Emmett said. "to think that no matter how much you learn, you'll always be limited by your face."

"I know," I sighed. "I doubt I'll even be able to make it through to the end of my residencies."

"Can't we do something to make you look older, as you go on?" Esme wondered aloud. "After all, we made those bruises, and it fooled your lab partners."

"But they only lasted a couple of hours," I pointed out. "In order to use makeup to age myself, it would have to be able to stay on for at least twelve hours."

"Longer, actually," Carlisle put in. "Once you're in your residencies, you'll end up having rotations that last twenty-four hours, or even longer."

"It definitely wouldn't work, then," Esme admitted. "It's why I usually don't bother with makeup; our skin is so impermeable that it just falls off after a while."

Carlisle shook his head. "Darling, how many times have I told you that you don't _need_ makeup?"

"But we like to wear it sometimes," Rosalie protested. "Our features may be perfect, but we always look so tired and pale."

"Which is perfect for an exhausted resident, actually," Carlisle laughed.

"All right," I said, holding up my hands. "Makeup is out." I was relieved, actually; I couldn't stand the thought of walking around all day with chemicals stuck on my face.

"Surely there's other ways to look older," Rosalie mused. "Maybe you could cut your hair, later on." _Goodness knows you need it._

"Absolutely not!" Esme and I protested together. "Besides," I continued, "then it would already be short the next time around; it would only work once."

"I could break your nose in a couple of years," Emmett offered. I just kicked him under the table.

"Even if you don't cut your hair, you could still change it," Rosalie said thoughtfully. "You could part it and grease it down."

"What about eyeglasses?" Esme suggested. "That ought to give you a couple of years."

"Don't forget clothes," Emmett said. "You could add layers to look fatter, or try to wear styles that make you look older."

"You know," I said thoughtfully. "I never thought of any of this. Maybe I can get the whole way through, after all."

"I agree," Carlisle said, looking at me scientifically. "In fact, I think that with all the changes we've discussed, you could stretch it out to twenty-five, possibly."

"Really?"

"Yes. But you would have to make other changes, besides your appearance. Your voice, for example: you could make it deeper as time goes on, and sound tired more often. And you would have to walk slower, display less energy, things like that. Growing older generally means slowing down a bit, even in your twenties."

"And when you start at Yale this fall, you could try to speak in a younger way at first, like your peers," Esme suggested. "You have a habit of speaking in a way that is too mature for your age. This way, you could 'age' your mannerisms, along with your appearance."

"Esme has a point," Emmett said. "You're so mature sometimes that you're downright boring."

"Thanks," I said caustically.

"No, I'm serious!" he protested. "We haven't even wrestled since I got back. And you haven't shattered a phone booth in what, fourteen years?" _Ha ha! __Remember that?_

"Anyway," I said quickly, "I'll be leaving earlier than usual tomorrow. I'm heading down to Yale to observe surgery. "

Carlisle frowned. "Surgery? You'd better hunt tonight, then."

"No, I'll be fine," I assured him. "I signed up to watch an outpatient procedure- a hand. There won't be that much more blood than what I've already been around in clinicals. And I'm excused for the whole day, so I'll be home early, as well."

"Better you than me," Emmett said, making a face. _I still don't understand why you picked a profession involving blood._

"Emmett," Esme scolded, "I think it's wonderful that Edward is studying a field in which he can help people. Speaking of which, what are your plans this fall?"

"College," Emmett said proudly. Esme gave a little gasp and jumped up to hug him.

"Your first time!" she sighed as she sat back down by Carlisle. "Have you thought of a major you're interested in?"

"Not yet. But Rose and I want to match, so we can have most of our classes together. I mean, if you don't mind…" he trailed off awkwardly, glancing at Carlisle.

"Tuition? Don't give it another thought," Carlisle said, sounding just as proud as Esme. "You're back under our roof, and assuming younger ages. And I think you'll really enjoy college, regardless of which area you choose to study."

"It'll be funny being younger than Edward," Rosalie said, wrinkling her nose. _I'm not sure I like that._

"No, I don't think we should change our cover story," I told her. "I've already mentioned the fact that you were older to one or two classmates."

"And I've done the same at work," Carlisle said, giving me a wink. "Since Edward is claiming twenty, let's have Rosalie be twenty-one. We'll just have to come up with a reason why you two are just beginning college now ." We all nodded our agreement. "Anyway, since Edward will be getting home early tomorrow, maybe we could all go hunting? I'm getting a bit thirsty."

"I'm game," Emmett said. "I can't get enough of those bears. Rose?"

She shook her head. "Esme and I were going to go shopping tomorrow."

"Well, no girls allowed then. Even better," Emmett grunted, cracking his knuckles toward me eagerly. _We. __Are. __Wrestling. __And since Esme won't be looking, I'm going to beat you into next week._

"You're welcome to try," I growled back happily, baring my teeth in challenge. I was looking forward to it, too. I had been a little nervous, before, about Emmett's and Rosalie's eventual return. After living on their own for so long, I had worried that they would treat me as even younger than they had before. But as I should have expected, they were unchanged; in fact, they both seemed to have had their fill of being responsible adults. And Emmett was right; we hadn't wrestled in years. And without the women around, this fight promised to be a good one.

"All right," Carlisle said, grinning. _Those two…_ "We'll go as soon as Edward gets home." Then he turned back to me, raising an eyebrow. "Now what's this about a phone booth?"

.

.

.

My heart was light as I drove down to Yale-New Haven Hospital the next morning. I had already been accepted as a third-year transfer into Yale's medical school, which was just across the street from the hospital. As I parked, I was pleased to see plenty of shade dotting the walk between the two; hopefully the weather wouldn't be as limiting when I came here this fall. The clouds had been especially uncooperative lately, and Dr. Patterson wasn't the only professor who was getting annoyed by my truancy.

There were two others in my class who were coming to Yale, but William and Nick were both going to Harvard as planned. I would promise to keep in touch, and then let our "friendship" fade naturally as we parted ways. I would miss my human friends, but it was for the best. After our family's brainstorming session last night, I had higher hopes now about making it through all of my residencies, and possibly even holding a job for a year or two. I had a better chance at fooling those around me if I kept them all at arm's length. It was bad enough that I had the other classmates coming here with me, but at least they were both just acquaintances, not friends. I would need to be sure to keep it that way.

The cover story, as of right now, was that I would be renting an apartment just a mile from the campus, and driving back home on weekends, or as my schedule allowed. In reality, I wouldn't be able to stand living in such proximity with a whole crowd of human minds. I would just be parking my car outside the apartment, and running back home most nights. I might stay in Connecticut occasionally, if I had a lot of studying to do, or if the weather was particularly bad. This was my first time "living" away from home, while still being a part of the family. And even though I had always intended to come home most nights, I had still been feeling guilty about it, because of Esme. But now that Emmett and Rosalie were back, I knew she would be all right.

As I walked into the hospital, I checked my watch: 7:50. The procedure was scheduled for eight o'clock; I couldn't see it taking more than twenty minutes. I would go to the apartment complex afterwards and see if I could get in to look at the apartment, so that Esme and I could go shopping for furniture, just to keep up appearances. I had even invited William along, since we were supposed to be here together today. This was going to be the last hurrah for the three musketeers; two of them, at least. After that, I would need to let the friendship fade. But William had called me late last night to tell me he was sick. His voice had been convincingly hoarse as he asked me to relay his apologies for his absence today. I was a bit suspicious that he was just trying to avoid another sick stomach, but it wasn't really my business anyway.

I made my way into the outpatient center, and walked up to the secretary's desk. She looked up from her coffee, catching her breath as she took in my features.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. My name is Edward Cullen, from Dartmouth Medical School. I'm here to observe the hand procedure at eight o'clock."

"Just a moment." She opened her appointment book, frowning down at it. "I'm sorry, but that patient cancelled- she's got that nasty flu that's going around. I have a note here, that says you're to report to Dr. Landis, second floor."

"Thank you," I said, unable to hide my smile as I headed toward the stairs. Dr. Landis was the student coordinator here at Yale- New Haven, and I had heard enough about him in Dr. Patterson's thoughts to know that he thought us Dartmouth students a great nuisance. With luck, he wouldn't even bother to reschedule my observation; He would probably just load me down with reading material, to make up for the lost opportunity, and send me on my way. I hadn't been too worried about the blood during the brief procedure today, but it was nice to have a reprieve. And if I could find Dr. Landis quickly enough, I would be back home before noon, easily. Carlisle, Emmett and I would be able to extend our hunting trip, and maybe find some better game than we had been getting lately.

I found him waiting impatiently at the end of a long hallway. He was a burly, unpleasant-looking man, who frowned as I approached him.

"Dr. Landis? I'm one of the students from Dartmouth, sir, and I was told to-"

"About time," he muttered, looking past me. "Aren't there supposed to be two of you?"

"William Cummings is sick, and sends his apologies," I answered. "I'm Edward Cullen."

His annoyance faded a bit. "Cullen? You're one of the ones transferring in this fall, aren't you?"

I smiled pleasantly. "Yes, sir. I'm looking forward to it."

"Of course you are," he said gruffly. "Let's go. Haven't got all day." He started walking briskly down the hall, and after a moment's hesitation, I followed. "It's better this way, actually," he said over his shoulder. Won't be so crowded in there."

"In where, sir?" I asked uncomfortably. I didn't like the direction his thoughts were heading in.

He stopped walking suddenly, and I found myself standing in front of a long sink, at which another man was already scrubbing his hands vigorously.

"This is your lucky day, Cullen," Dr. Landis said magnanimously as the other man turned his head halfway to give me a quick nod and smile. "Meet Dr. William Glenn. Since your observation was cancelled, I managed to get you in here to see him in action."

"Thank you, sir," I said weakly as I watched him walk away. The other man finally turned around, and my heart sank as I recognized him from Dr. Warren's thoughts. This was Dr. Glenn, the _heart_ surgeon.

"Hello, there," he said kindly, continuing to scrub. "Say, if you're coming into the OR, you'd better scrub in."

"Scrub in?" I asked in alarm. "Surely I'm not going to be… participating?"

"Of course not," he laughed. "You're only a second-year, right?" I nodded, relieved. "No, you're just observing. But there's a nasty flu going around. Wouldn't want to get those germs into an open chest cavity, would you?"

"No, sir," I mumbled, stepping up to the sink slowly and reaching for the soap. "So, what procedure will you be doing today?"

"Repairing a stenosed pulmonary valve," he said eagerly. "Exciting stuff; you'll be the envy of your classmates." He paused, noticing my hesitation. "Is there a problem? You're not sick, are you?"

My hand froze on the soap bar. I still had a chance to get out of this, and I should probably take it. I hadn't hunted in over a week, and there would be much more blood than I had expected. Dr. Glenn had just given me the perfect alibi: there _was_ a nasty flu bug going around. All I had to do was hint that I was wasn't feeling well, and I would be excused. And the semester was almost over; there was a chance they wouldn't even reschedule me for another observation.

On the other hand, if I got "sick", I would need to take several days off of my classes, and I had already missed quite a lot lately due to the sunny weather. And even though the incision was going to be larger than I felt comfortable with, the surgical team would no doubt cauterize the edges of the wound quickly enough; there shouldn't be too much active bleeding during the surgery itself. And Carlisle would be _fascinated_ to hear about this when I got home.

I started moving again, lathering up my hands quickly. "No, sir, I'm fine. It's just that I'm wondering if this patient is the same man I've seen in my clinicals; I know he was coming to you for pulmonary valve repair soon."

"What's his name?"

"John Lewis, age twenty."

He barked out a laugh, shaking his hands over the sink. "That's the one! Small world, isn't it? Come on, you might get a chance to say hello before we knock him out."

He held his drying hands in the air, walking sideways to shove the door open with his hip. I swallowed my fear, and followed him in through the door. I was grateful to be hit with the harsh scent of bleach, left over from the last cleaning; this would help. I began taking deep breaths in through my nose, gladly accepting the scorching burn that the chemical gave me. Yes, this would definitely help. This was going to be easier than I had thought.

The team was already assembled, and I recognized Mr. Lewis, who was already laying on the table and having his chest prepped by the nurse. When I entered the room, he lifted his head off the table, grinning at me.

"That's my doc, from back home!" he proclaimed, pointing to me. "Coleman, right?"

"Cullen," I corrected, amused at his assumption. "It's good to see you again, Mr. Lewis. And yes, I was the student with Dr. Warren that day, when he cleared you for surgery. Today I'll be observing Dr. Glenn."

"Well, I'm glad you're here," he said with a sigh. "Makes it a little less scary, seeing a familiar face, you know?" _I feel safer with him here, somehow._

"Small world, small world," Dr. Glenn said pleasantly as the nurse dressed him in his surgical apron. "Well, Mr. Lewis, we'll see you on the other side! Count backwards from ten, please."

The nurse lifted the ether mask toward Mr. Lewis' face, and his eyes grew wide with fear; it seemed it was time for another dose of vampire-induced trust. I edged closer, speaking softly. "It's all right, Mr. Lewis. The gas will help you fall asleep, and the anesthesia in your I.V. will keep you asleep. You'll wake up after a good nap, and it'll all be over." He relaxed his head back down, succumbing to my hypnotic gaze and nodding bravely to the nurse, who fitted the mask over his nose and mouth. It was a good thing that a sterile cloth was draped over the tray which contained the barbaric-looking equipment needed for the procedure; if Mr. Lewis had seen all _that_, I doubt even I would have been able to calm him down.

"Good luck, Mr. Lewis," I added as he began to count and breathe in the ether. The nurse handed me a cotton mask, and by the time I had gotten it on, our patient was already drifting away from the gas. I was relieved to see that the IV was already in place in his right arm; it would deliver the general anesthesia necessary to keep him full unconscious during the procedure. Behind Mr. Lewis' head was the anesthesiologist, who would be monitoring his vital signs and adjusting the anesthesia accordingly. I imagined my friend William in his place someday, though I wondered if he realized just how "gross" the daily life of an anesthesiologist was. This man probably spent more time in the OR than the surgeons!

"That's quite a bedside manner you're developing there, Mr. Cullen," Dr. Glenn said generously.

"Thank you, sir. And I appreciate this opportunity."

"All right, folks," he said in a louder voice as he donned his cap and gloves. "We've got a twenty-year-old male presenting with isolated congenital stenosis of the pulmonary valve. I'll be entering through the left chest wall to perform digital dilation of the affected valve, assisted by blade." He paused, waited for the anesthesiologist's thumbs-up, and glanced up at the clock. "8:02, and we're opening up. Scalpel."


	6. Descent

**I'm heading out of town tomorrow, and so I really wanted to get this chapter out, though it's rather short. But man, is it intense! In the interest of my T rating, I tried not to be too explicit with the first half of the surgery, which is by far the grossest. But once we get down to the heart, I needed to be pretty descriptive, in order for the narrative to be clear.**

**A little anatomy lesson, to help you visualize the surgery: the right side of the heart pumps the blood into the lungs, through the pulmonary valve, which is the entrance to the pulmonary arteries. A healthy pulmonary valve has three leaflets, which open and close freely to allow the flow of blood as the right ventricle pushes with each contraction. A "stenosed" valve is too stiff, and the leaflets are often stuck together, and/or inflamed. The goal of surgery, no matter what decade you're in, is to free up the valve, either by stretching the leaflets, or by separating them with a special blade, sometimes called a "tenotome". (Of course these days, you can just get a new valve, if the situation calls for it) Mr. Lewis is one lucky fellow, because up until the forties, heart surgery in general was seen as unethical, and a valve as bad as his was pretty much a death sentence. Open heart surgery, and the bypass machine which first made its appearance in 1953, is still theoretical. The first successful "pulmonary valvulotomy" surgery had only been performed three years earlier, and new advancements and inventions regarding this procedure were happening monthly in the early fifties, by geniuses like William Glenn.**

* * *

As Dr. Glenn raised the scalpel, I drew as deep a breath as I could manage, and held it. I averted my eyes as he made the incision, but I was unable to fully block the image being given to me by the other minds in the room. The air instantly was filled with the delicious aroma of Mr. Lewis's blood, and my throat began with a gentle burn. But I could do this. I had been exposed to blood a total of twenty-one times in clinicals now, and several more during my unofficial rounds with Carlisle. This was no different; just more than the other times. _Just another blood challenge_, I reminded myself firmly. _And you don't even have to breathe for this one._ The monster wasn't invited.

I focused on as many things as possible, to drown out the aroma and the sight of the blood as it welled up around the sliding scalpel . The ticking of the clock on the wall. The smell of the iodine, and the bleach. The buzzing from the fluorescent lights. The murmur coming from our patient's faulty valve... No, that one probably wasn't a good idea. I tilted my head up slightly, focusing intently on the tiny cobwebs lacing the edges of the ceiling. I could do this. Just a few more seconds, and they would cauterize. The rest of the procedure would be relatively bloodless; the valve would be accessed via the pulmonary artery, and a cardioscope would aid Dr. Glenn in finding and dilating the stubborn valve leaflets. It would all be done through a tiny pinhole in the artery. I just had to get past this initial bleeding, first. Just a few more seconds.

My venom began to flow, and I clenched my teeth impatiently as the slow burn in my throat began to sizzle. I pretended to adjusted my cap, using my forearm to attempt to brush my cotton mask closer to my nose. No effect. I closed my eyes now, focusing now on the thoughts of the cleaning lady who was passing by in the hall. Come on, come _on_…

"Cauterize."

I resisted the urge to let out my breath in relief, as Dr. Glenn spoke the magic word. The nurse handed him the iron, and the smell of burning flesh rose up to blend with the blood scent in the air. My throat cooled in response. I still didn't breathe, though; a quick glance around the walls told me that the OR was sealed fairly well, and I realized with a sinking feeling that the blood scent itself would stay heavy in the air until the procedure was over. No matter; the worst of the bleeding was past. And I had no intention of breathing again, while I was in here.

"So, Mr. Cullen, I hear you're transferring into Yale next semester."

I frowned at Dr. Glenn's back. I hadn't planned on needing to _talk_ while I was in here; I had a breath to hold. Still, I had the air for a few words. "Yes, sir."

"Good man."

I nodded, hoping that was the end of it. But Dr. Glenn was still feeling chatty as he dug deeper in our patient. "Any particular field of interest?"

I was about to say pediatrics. It wasn't really true, per se, although it did go along with what I had been doing in clinicals. But if I gave him anything specific, he might want to talk even more about it.

"Not yet, sir," I said with as little air as possible.

"Well, son, I hope you'll consider cardiology. Breakthrough after breakthrough, these days; these are exciting times, and we're right on the cutting edge here at Yale." He chuckled at his own joke, and glanced up to one of the nurses. "Bone saw."

I was grateful for the loud whirring sound that replaced Dr. Glenn's small talk. And he seemed to be focusing more now, as he carefully cut and pried his way into Mr. Lewis' chest cavity. New smells arose from the operating table, and my thirst eased further. The procedure _was_ fascinating, even this preliminary part. I finally opened my eyes to watch for myself, just in time for one of the nurses to glance my way with a shy smile. I frowned back to discourage her, but of course the mask obscured this; all she got out of it was my prolonged eye contact, and her pulse sped up in response. I rolled my eyes theatrically, and she wisely stopped thinking about me, turning her attention back to Dr. Glenn's handiwork.

"Spreader."

He was getting down to business, now. He soon had a nice opening through the ribs and I could see the pericardium thumping, its stuttering rhythm out of sync with the gentle rise and fall of the lungs. I drew an inch closer, transfixed by the mysteries of the living human body, laid open before my eyes.

What was _I _like inside? I knew that Carlisle had seen vampires be torn apart before, during his time with the Volturi. But despite his curiosity, he had been so troubled by the executions that he had never done any sort of… autopsy. And since a disassembled vampire is still technically alive until the moment of incineration, I supposed that he would have considered such a procedure to be unconscionable. But it was a shame; now that I saw the human cardiopulmonary system in action, I was terribly curious about the state of my own heart and lungs. Were they just cold stones now? Or had my body absorbed those useless organs during the transformation? Did I even _have_ a heart in there? Or just a thirsty monster, filling the void left behind by my organs and my soul?

Dr. Glenn sliced into the pericardium, revealing the… ventricles? I had expected him to work higher up. I wanted to ask him why he was going in this way, but I didn't have the air.

A new, deeper voice spoke up- the anesthesiologist. "Looks like you've got yourself a convert, Glenn." Dr. Glenn looked up from his work and followed his colleague's gaze back to my eyes, which showed my fascination and curiosity. I was smiling behind my mask, my thirst forgotten.

"Excellent!" he laughed. "Nothing like seeing a beating heart to give you some passion, eh? We'll make a cardiologist out of you yet. Come closer and take a look at this."

I gladly moved forward, peering down inside the pericardium as he stripped it away. The right ventricle was obviously struggling against the stiff, unyielding resistance of the stenosed pulmonary valve. The blood should have been flowing easily into the pulmonary artery, and into the lungs. If all went well, Mr. Lewis' poor right ventricle would soon get some relief. If he survived the surgery, of course; these things were always a gamble, even when a vampire _wasn't_ standing in the room.

"Now!" Dr. Glenn murmured as he handed the scalpel back to the nurse. "Let's see if our budding cardiologist can tell us what's next in this procedure." _He's never going to get this right. _

But I was ready for him. "Insertion of a cardioscope into root of the left pulmonary artery, followed by blind valvulotomy with the attached blade." That was it; I was out of air.

"Ha!" he scoffed, sharing a disdainful look with the anesthesiologist. "That's what you get for going to Dartmouth, Cullen. Always a year behind, those dinosaurs. Didn't you hear me say 'digital' earlier?"

I frowned, steeling myself as I drew in a shallow, fiery breath. "Yes, sir. And I was wondering why you're accessing the heart so far below the artery."

"That," he said triumphantly, "is because I'm not using the artery at all. We're going in through the ventricular wall."

I looked up at his face in alarm. "You're cutting into the heart itself?" I stammered. "I thought open heart surgery was only theoretical." _And far too bloody!_

He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, it's still theoretical… for now. Anyway, we're just going to be sneaking inside, not opening up fully. And that's where the 'digital' comes in," he added, wiggling his gloved index finger at me. "The cardioscope hasn't lived up to our expectations, and using the pulmonary artery has ended up more dangerous than we like. So I'm going to be making an incision right into the ventricle itself, and- you got the 'blind' part right- using the most sensitive tool known to man to palpate the true extent of the stenosis."

"You're going to stick your finger inside his heart?" I asked weakly.

"You got it."

"Barbarian," muttered the anesthesiologist, with a teasing grin.

Dr Glenn snickered behind his mask, extending his hand for a fresh scalpel. "You want barbarism in cardiac surgery? Go up to Canada. Can you tell us what they're researching up there, Mr. Cullen? Or is Dartmouth still teaching you to bleed patients?"

I didn't have the heart to smile at his joke. All I could picture was Mr. Lewis' heart being sliced open, and blood spurting out as Dr. Glenn blindly jammed his finger around inside. I was getting a similar image from one of the nurses' minds; she had never seen the new procedure before, and was imagining an even bigger fountain of blood than I was. The fire began to spread down my throat, and I swallowed a bolus of venom before drawing yet another breath of blood-scented air. The heart thumped on merrily, blissfully unaware of its danger. This time, the thumping wasn't a just curious spectacle; it was an invitation, a rhythmic whisper promising me a ready feast. I felt a stirring inside my own chest in response- not my dead heart answering back, but the clash of chains as the monster struggled against his prison, demanding that I step another inch closer.

I told him to keep it down, and took a step backwards. This was no time to start listening to _him._

"Well, Mr. Cullen?"

I pulled my gaze away from the heart, back to Dr. Glenn's waiting eyes. _Canada?_

"Something with dogs and ice baths," I answered through the haze. "Hypothermia?"

"Right-o," Dr. Glenn said proudly. "They submerge the poor things in ice baths- after anesthetizing them, of course. This slows down the heart so much that your open-heart surgery is starting to look more than theoretical." He raised the scalpel, laying it directly on the heart muscle. I took another step backwards in panic.

"It's a pipe dream," the anesthesiologist insisted. "There's no way to accurately measure the extent of brain damage that the hypothermia may be causing, in the dogs. They'll never approve human testing."

"Oh, I think they will," Dr. Glenn countered, pulling the scalpel away to argue his point. "They think therapeutic hypothermia is the future of cardiac surgery. Idiots."

"I suppose you have a better idea," his colleague huffed. _No doubt involving some innovative contraption involving Erector sets and rubber, if I know William Glenn._

"As it happens, yes," Glenn sniffed, turning his face to the side and wiping his forehead on the shoulder of his apron. The nurse on his side clucked her tongue disapprovingly and reaching up to wipe the rest of the sweat away. "We're working on a new device here at Yale. A pump that will take the blood away from the right side of the heart, into an external oxygenator. And the pump will keep the left-sided circulation moving, and dump the fresh blood back into the aorta, or the subclavian, or whatever. This will allow us to shut down the heart completely, and then we can slice it up however we want. Bingo, you've got open heart surgery."

_Barbarian!_ "Brilliant, as always, Dr. Glenn."

"Of course it's brilliant," Dr. Glenn snorted. "But I won't be allowed to do any of that for some time- not until I get more funding, and more desperate patients. Which is why I'm also working on ways to improve _this_ procedure. Tomorrow we have another pulmonary valve, my friend, and I'm going to try out my new rubber diverticulum. I'll be able to palpate the valve through the rubber with practically no blood loss, and do the trimming through a much smaller hole." He raised the scalpel again. "Now, pay attention, Mr. Cullen! Let's put this doubting Thomas to shame. Barbarism, indeed!"

I ground my teeth, grateful for the mask which hid my frustration. If I had only come tomorrow! Or in a few more years, and the heart wouldn't even have been beating. Unbelievable.

Before I could think to protest, the scalpel bit down. I sucked in a deep breath in preparation, just as the blood began to flow again. Thankfully, there was much less of it than I had feared; the floundering insufficiency of the right ventricle had made its wall thick and weak. The blood flowed sluggishly around Dr. Glenn's steady hand as he stared up at the ceiling, poking around blindly inside the heart. He began to chatter about the valve, which he was now feeling directly, but I couldn't hear him anymore.

I was staring at the heart, its rhythmic cadence in time with the pulsing leak of blood it was sending out. I was in agreement with the monster about one thing; this _was_ a beautiful sight. I took one step closer, fascinated anew by this insight into the human body. I had my doubts about Carlisle's faith, but standing here, it was hard to deny the creative genius of Whoever had designed the cardiopulmonary system. I gasped in wonder, but flinched as the new breath made the flames tear deeper into my stomach. With each beat of the heart, the air grew thicker with the rich, tantalizing scent of blood, and my fists clenched tighter. The monster was rattling the bars of his prison desperately now, and I could feel the color changing in my eyes as first my shoulders tensed, then my leg muscles. My eyes blinked and widened, as the rest of the room blurred around me, a hazy tunnel which centered around the beauty of the thudding heart, which was now whispering its invitation with each beat: _Feed. Feed. Feed._

Dr. Glenn withdrew his hand, immediately replacing it with the tenotome. The nurse was ready with the needle and thread, and he immediately began to close the edges of the incision around the handle. But not soon enough; in the three seconds before he got some sutures in, two heartbeats sent out two gushes of blood flowing out the incision, which was now larger than the handle which protruded from it.

I suddenly felt the coolness of metal in my hands; I had somehow grabbed onto the edge of the gurney and was stepping closer once again. Somewhere in the haze, I heard Dr. Glenn shouting for me to back away. But the pulsing call of the heart drowned out his order, and the edges of my vision tinted with red. My lips drew back, exposing my teeth behind my mask as I stared down into the waiting feast. This was the essence of a vampire's desire, laid bare before my very eyes! I blinked and shook my head, but the monster was screaming in my ears now. _FEED! _

My whole world turned red; I knew this was it. This was my last chance to stop my monster... to stop _myself._ I spun around and lurched blindly for the door, shoving aside the shoulder and the tray of instruments that were in my way. I flew out of the room, barely hearing the crash of metal against tile as I burst out into the hallway. But the hallway was filled with humans too, their pulses thudding in my ears as the monster shouted his rage at my betrayal. There was shouting behind me, as well, coming from the OR. But I couldn't stick around to figure out why they were shouting; I just ran.


	7. Plummet

**I just wanted to say thank you once again for everyone's wonderful reviews. I do try to respond to them all and I really enjoy talking things through and brainstorming with readers. So to all you great guest reviewers (especially Jessie!), please set up an account so I can thank you properly!**

**Okay, the next two chapters will be pretty bleak; but I think you all saw that coming, after that last outtake. Never fear, Alice and Jasper are running as fast as they can!**

* * *

I didn't slow down, or even come to my senses, until I was somewhere in Massachusetts. I stopped on a dime in the middle of some miniature forest, and tore off the surgical garb that was continuing to plague me with the scent of my prey's blood.

"He's _not_ your _prey!_" I snarled as I began digging furiously. My trembling hands shoved the gown, cap, and mask into the hole, even as the monster took one last whiff of them. As soon as I had them covered well enough, I sank to my knees on top of the mound, finally giving in to the raging storm inside me. I gripped the back of my head in my hands, tugging as hard as I could at my hair to distract myself from the monster's roar as I dragged him, inch by inch, back into his prison. The battle was fierce, fiercer than it had been in decades. Even as I shoved my enemy down, he tore at my throat with his talons and continued to scream his demands.

_Go back! Go back! Go back!_

I finally opened my eyes, to find myself rocking back and forth and the sun high overhead. How long had I sat here? Where was I? And more importantly, what manner of idiocy had I just committed?

I drew several deep breaths, making sure to check my surroundings; this was no time to run into a hiker. I didn't even know which forest I was in, but I knew one thing; I need to get out of Massachusetts, and fast. The sky was a brilliant, unbroken blue, and there wasn't nearly enough forested land around here to cover me. Even here in the thick of the woods, the shadows on my skin were broken by patches of my glittering alienness. If someone should happen on me just now… I shuddered, unsure whether I was more afraid of exposure, or of what I might do in my current state. My throat was a blazing furnace, though at least I had gotten my feet to stop twitching back toward the way I had come. I clenched my teeth again, forcing myself to focus. I verified that I was alone, at least within the stretch of my gift. And I could hear the rush of cars off to my left on what I assumed must be U.S. Route 5. This placed me in one of the tiny state forests which dotted the land to the east of the highway, in the northern half of the state. Good. I began running again, bearing slightly to the northeast, to keep myself inside the safety of the trees' canopy. As I ran, I tried to keep a nose out for something decent to hunt, but my heart wasn't in it; the scents were just so bland and bitter, compared to the rich, sweet cloud of…

I ran impossibly faster, cursing my slippery will. How had I let this happen? Why, _why_ didn't I just go with the flu excuse that Dr. Glenn had practically fed me? What delusion had possessed me, to think that I could swagger into an OR and calmly observe cardiac surgery? Had I really become this arrogant, to think that the monster had been locked away for good? To think that I could actually stand a foot away from an exposed human heart, and that he would just look the other way? That I was actually strong enough to fight the beast inside of me even as I waved a blood-red flag in his eyes? That I had somehow _won_? Was I really that stupid?!

I was, apparently. And I hadn't stopped there. No, I had just _stood_ there, letting it happen. I had bravely stood my ground against my escalating thirst, determined to make the most of the educational experience. I had waited long past the point where I should have run out. And the worst part was, I had done it to _protect_ _my_ _patient._ I had been so determined not to disturb the aseptic environment of the operating theatre; opening the door was forbidden, after all, once the patient had been opened. So in my misguided desire to protect my pr-… to protect Mr. Lewis, I had stayed. I had stayed until I saw the point of no return flying toward my face, and I had barely made it out. I had saved his life, but I had done it only seconds before taking it myself.

And if I had?

It wouldn't have stopped there. It would have been a massacre, and one of the most brilliant minds of our time would have been snuffed out. By _me._ By my foolish, arrogant assumption that I had defeated the monster within. And then what? Once I had slaughtered the unlucky inhabitants of the OR, how would I have made my escape? The OR opened into a busy hallway. Would others have had to die to protect my secret? But the most tragic casualty would have been John Lewis. A man who had been expressly _relieved_ to see me standing there as he submitted himself to the knife. Who had felt safer with me there. Who had _trusted_ me.

Who else would trust me, if I continued on this ridiculous path? Who would be the unlucky one? When would the day come when one of my patients truly became my prey, their sheeplike trust quickly shifting to horror as my white coat took on the stain of their blood? What if it was a _child_? I was just lucky that I had been wearing a mask today. Even with the close shave the way it was, my bared teeth would have raised impossible questions, had it not been for the mask.

I was playing with fire here, and it needed to stop. I needed to accept the fact that I wasn't ready for this, and that I might never-

"That _was_ quick!"

Emmett plowed into me, and we tumbled head over heels back under the canopy of the forest's edge. When had I gotten home?! I snarled in anger and confusion, attacking him with everything I had. I had his throat in my hands in two seconds, and I barely stopped myself from biting, turning my face away at the last second. He boomed out a laugh and brought his fist up inside the ring of my arms, snapping my head back so hard that when I finally saw our house, it was upside-down.

_That's what I'm talkin' about!_ He followed through on the punch with his knee in my chest. I saw the kick just in time, and avoided it with a back flip and attacked again. I shot up into his face and sent us both crashing into a second tree, which fell along with us. Emmett laughed, not realizing his danger; my vision was tinged with red again, and I was dangerously close to hurting my brother. I clenched my teeth shut against the temptation to bite, and forced myself to pull away from the thrill of combat.

"Later, Emmett. Let's hunt first."

I pushed against his chest to get up, but he was having too much fun. He locked his arms around my back and flipped up into his feet, throwing me back down into the fallen tree, which exploded into a shower of splinters as I crashed right through it, face first, into the ground.

"Emmett, stop-" but he drove me deeper into the ground as he body-slammed me, and my mouth filled with dirt as his landing knocked my jaws open. I scrambled to turn on him, livid and snarling now as I spat the dirt out. But he already had one elbow around my throat. He laughed again in his momentary victory; all the rage in the world wasn't enough to twist out of an Emmett Cullen Rear Stranglehold, especially when he's got his knee in your back. I jerked uselessly in his grip, and it took every ounce of willpower _not_ to twist my face around and bite his shoulder. I would have satisfaction, though. The monster inside me roared in battle fury, determined to have victory, if not blood. I began digging with my knees and my one free hand beneath us, deepening the ditch.

Before Emmett realized what was happening, I had enough room to bend my knees and kick backwards, while my hand looped around and pulled on his shirt, flipping him over my head. I sprang up to meet him before he hit the ground, and he greeted me with his fist. I dodged the punch while still in midair, grabbing his outstretched arm and climbing up to grab his neck as we smashed into the ground. Emmett had, meanwhile, gotten my right leg twisted behind his back, and we both paused for a millisecond, snarls rumbling in both our chests as we tried to get our bearings. This time I _really_ couldn't move, and that was a good thing. I took another deep breath, willing myself to calm down.

Emmett couldn't breathe at all; his face was firmly buried in the ground. But even as he snarled with energy, his shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. _That… was… amazing! You haven't been that fun in years! _I just clenched my jaw, thinking how much "fun" he had almost gotten himself into. I had almost bitten him twice this time. Did he really want to try for a third time? My teeth were only two inches from his neck now, but I was in control again… mostly.

There was a breeze around us, and Carlisle skidded to a stop, laughing, beside the tangled heap that Emmett and I were still in. "I see you two aren't wasting any time," he chuckled. "But you'd better take it out into the woods, or Esme will… Edward?"

He had finally seen my eyes; black as jet.

_What's wrong?_ _Are you hurt?_

"I'm fine," I growled. I jerked my right shoulder against Emmett, and he rolled away from me cheerfully. I sank down to lie on my back, closing my eyes to help the energy subside. I wasn't ready to be back home yet, or to tell Carlisle about this. Now that Emmett had helped me expend the worst of my fury, my head was clear, and I needed time to think. But first, I needed to hunt.

"I'm fine," I repeated, more gently this time. "It's just… there was a bit more blood today than I expected. You were right, I should have hunted beforehand." I averted my gaze, focusing on the dirt I was brushing off my sleeves.

Carlisle frowned. "I thought it was just going to be a little hand procedure."

"It was," I lied, brushing harder at the dirt. "The lesion was just a bit more involved than I expected. And I'm fine… just thirsty. Emmett?"

He was still wiping dirt out of his eyes. "Let's go," he grinned. "Those bears aren't getting any younger."

I followed my brother into the trees, feeling Carlisle's worried gaze boring into my back. But he let it go, and followed us in. I split off from them both and went my own way, following the scent of a deer. I forced myself to drink the awful stuff, trying not to imagine what Mr. Lewis' blood would have tasted like, had I just stayed for five more seconds this morning.

I could barely stand the taste after that thought, and I finally dropped the deer half-drunk, unable to continue. Were my eyes light enough yet? There weren't any puddles about to check in, but I just couldn't bring myself to drink any more, not when I had come so close to the…

"Stop," I growled. At least my throat had cooled; if nothing else, the thirst had been extinguished by the bitterness of the deer's blood. I buried my kill and leapt up into the higher branches of an ancient spruce. I leaned my head back against the trunk, keeping my eyes closed until I felt all my muscles relax.

I finally opened my eyes and stared into the sun, my vision shimmering with the extra light that was reflecting off of my face. Then I looked down at my arms, frowning at the smear of deer's blood that had trailed down my sleeve when I dropped it. And the rest of me was a mess too, from my scrap with Emmett: my other sleeve was torn away, I was covered in dirt and one of my shoes was missing. Emmett was right; we hadn't had such a terrific fight in years. I bore all the marks of being a monster, right now: the ragged clothing, the blood stains, the sun glittering on my inhuman skin. And I hated it.

I had come so far- at least, I thought I had. I had felt so _human_ these past two years, in medical school. And I had even felt human outside of school. I hadn't gotten roughed up like this since we had moved here- though admittedly, that was also partially because Emmett hadn't been around. But I had been cleaner in my hunting, too. I hadn't bothered to fight my prey recently. I was in the habit now of just going for the kill immediately, and coming home looking just as pristine as when I had headed out. And I took some pride in this; it wasn't that I felt tussling with my prey was wrong, really. I just hadn't felt the urge to do so lately. I supposed it went along with my new level of control, which I had always managed to keep despite the risks I took, being a med student.

Until today.

Now that I was calm and my throat had cooled, I took another look at what had happened this morning. It was the closest call I had had in years, but that was all it was. A mistake, and thankfully one that had been salvaged at the last second. Drowning myself in guilt wasn't going to help- I needed to learn from this. I needed to be on guard against these bloody situations, and against my own arrogance. Yes, this morning had been a huge mistake. But it didn't have to ruin everything.

Earlier, when I had been running home, I had just been about to accept that fact that I didn't belong in medical school. That I was doomed to kill eventually, that it was only a matter of time. But now that I was myself again, I knew this wasn't necessarily true. Carlisle had taken these same risks, after all, and _he_ had never killed anyone. And I really did want to continue on to my M.D. I just needed to be more careful, was all. Especially when it came to disasters -in-waiting like cardiac surgery. I would continue to work on my control, and I would be more realistic about the monster I was carting around. This whole mess had happened in the first place because I had been pretending that he had grown old and toothless, when that simply wasn't the case. And when I went to Yale this fall…

I closed my eyes again, slamming my head back against the tree trunk. Would Yale still want me after this? It had happened in their hospital, after all. And while I hadn't actually said or done anything to expose my true nature, I had broken one of the most sacred rules of surgery by bursting out that door. The people in the hallway must had been shocked to see a med student escaping the OR, and the story had no doubt come to the attention of Yale's Medical School. And since I had already decided by January to go to Yale, I hadn't even bothered to apply anywhere else. Now, it looked like I might need to do that.

The other complication was Carlisle. I had lied on impulse earlier, just to put off the conversation until I was calm enough to have it. And I regretted that; I hadn't lied to my father in _years_. In fact, I had sworn an oath both to him and to myself, back in 1931, that I would always been honest with him about the issue of my control, in particular.

But Carlisle had done so much for me, especially over the past fourteen years. The blood challenges, the endless hours at work with him, his endless encouragement and shared medical wisdom, the elaborate cover story for Dartmouth. In fact, my attending Dartmouth was the only reason that we had moved here in the first place. And I thought about how pleased he had been with each success, culminating just over a week ago with the White Coat Ceremony. I had _never_ seen him as proud as I had that night, and the next morning with the pin. If there was any way to spare him the knowledge of my failure today, he deserved it. I just hoped that working up at Cottage Hospital, he wouldn't be privy to any gossip that my strange behavior might cause among the medical community this week. I would have to come up with something to explain my switching to another medical school, but that shouldn't be too difficult. I would do whatever was necessary to keep Carlisle from finding out how close his son had just come to breaking the Oath that he had, just days before, sworn under his father's proud watch.

After all he had done for me, it was the least I could do for him.

.

.

.

I was feeling a little more confident as I made my way to clinicals the next morning. I had been a little concerned, yesterday, that someone from Yale might call the house while Carlisle was still home. But the call had never come, and he had gone off to work without thinking about my eyes, or the hand surgery again. I would need to make sure to get the mail myself the rest of the week, just in case. But if I didn't hear from them soon, I would assume that I was still in the clear. Perhaps I wouldn't need to look into other schools after all.

I would need to be careful today in clinicals, though. I hadn't fed as much as I should yesterday, and I would be extra cautious about blood this time. And if it looked like things were getting too risky, I always had the flu excuse. I only had the rest of the week here at Dartmouth. Our certificates were already printed up, waiting in crisp stacks in the Dean's office. I had truly enjoyed my time here, even with this difficult ending.

After class this afternoon, I would run back down to Connecticut to get my car, taking care to avoid being seen. If Yale was willing to overlook my foolishness yesterday, I certainly didn't need to remind them about myself this soon after the fact. I really did need my car, though. It looked a bit odd to be walking through the streets of Hanover, white coat, stethoscope and all- and risky, in terms of weather. Fortunately, the sky was a promising gray this morning. I entered the hospital ten minutes early and headed to the physician's lounge to find Dr. Warren. I knew he would be eager to hear about the hand surgery, and so I had been concocting the story as I ran.

But as soon as I entered the lounge, his thoughts turned not to hands, but to the Dean's office. "There you are, Cullen."

"Good morning, sir," I yawned, laying my books on his desk. "Everything all right?"

"You tell me," he replied, eyeing me carefully. "The Dean wanted to see you as soon as you got in today. Any idea why?"

I swallowed, my hopes fading. It looked like Yale hadn't wasted any time getting rid of me. It was odd for them to be doing this through Dartmouth, though; why didn't they just do it in a letter? I might as well pick up a roll of stamps from the campus store; it appeared I was going to be filling out some applications while Carlisle was at work tonight. At least it seemed that Dr. Warren didn't know what had happened; that boded well for the gossip staying down in Connecticut.

"No, sir," I muttered, scooping up my books again.

"Well, hurry it up," he said gruffly. "We've got a full load this morning, and you'll love our ten o'clock."

I headed out the front door again, and over to the academic building. I focused immediately on the Dean's thoughts, but he was reviewing his schedule for a day. The secretary waved me into his office, and I only caught one snatch of relevant thoughts before he started to speak.

_I hate doing this. _"Close the door, Mr. Cullen."

I complied and sat down gingerly on the edge of my chair, laying my books on the other one. The Dean leaned forward onto his desk, his hands folded and his jolly face twisted into a frown. "Now. Why don't we start by you telling me what _exactly_ you thought you were doing yesterday?"

I let out my breath through my teeth. It wasn't enough for Yale to drop me like a hot potato; they had to get _my_ school involved. "I had my observation down at Yale-New Haven," I began. The Dean immediately pictured me running out of surgery; he already knew everything, then. "I was invited to observe Dr. William Glenn, in one of his pulmonary valve surgeries," I continued. "I was… I was fine in the beginning. But I've never observed surgery before. I guess the blood got to me, because I got really nauseous all of a sudden."

His frown deepened. "And so you decided to just run out."

I took a deep breath. "I realize that disturbing a aseptic environment is… unhealthy for the patient. But I was more afraid of vomiting, and surely that would have been worse. It all happened very quickly, and I felt that leaving immediately was the best thing to do."

"The best thing to do," he repeated, shaking his head. "And then what happened?"

I frowned. Hadn't they told him that I didn't go back in? "I left, sir. I was still… unwell. Perhaps I should have-"

"And so you didn't stick around to see what your abrupt departure caused, did you?" he scowled.

"Caused, sir?"

He unclasped his hands and leaned back in his chair. "You must have been rather sick, Mr. Cullen, to not have noticed that you knocked over a tray of instruments in your haste."

"I…" I vaguely remembered doing this, and hearing the rattling sound, but I had been in such a murderous fog that I hadn't given it a second thought. "No, sir, I didn't realize-"

"Or that you shoved a man out of your way to reach the door," he interrupted, his eyes growing angry. "A man named William Glenn, to be precise, who at that particular moment when you shoved him, had one hand on a surgical blade, which was laying inside the patient's _heart_!"

The room grew dark suddenly, and my breath died in my throat. Now he was picturing me shoving aside the famous surgeon, causing his hand to slip during surgery. What had I _done? _

"What… what happened?" I stammered.

"The blade punctured the atrial wall," he said coldly. "That injury, combined with the still-open incision in the ventricle, caused a sudden loss of blood volume, which led to ventricular tachycardia. The patient went into cardiac arrest on the table, Cullen!"

"And?" I demanded. _Please, no…_

"He's alive… for now. And you'd better pray he stays that way. Not only did he have to be defibrillated, not _only_ did he lose a massive amount of blood, but your precious 'aseptic environment' was disturbed several more times throughout the surgery. They had to bring in another physician- who didn't even get a chance to wash his _hands_- to close the first incision while Glenn scrambled to close the other one. All this while the valve was still unrepaired, which made for poor recovery from the cardiac arrest. And then they had to open the door a time or two to bring in sterile instruments for the completion of the repair, since you had dumped the others onto the floor!"

My head dropped into my hands, in vast relief at Mr. Lewis' survival, and disgust at what my arrogance had caused. "I had no idea, sir, truly I didn't," I choked out. "I don't know what to say."

"I don't know what to say either, kid. You've really dug yourself a nice hole. It goes without saying that Yale has rescinded their offer for you to join them this Fall."

I looked back up at him, nodding. "I understand."

He sniffed a deep breath, thinking how unpleasant his next task was. "Dartmouth is dismissing you as well."

There was a long silence as I stared numbly at him. What did he just say?

"You're not being expelled," he continued after a moment. "The board is allowing you to withdraw… provided you do so immediately."

"I don't understand," I said slowly. "I've completed the program already. My certificate-"

He held up a hand. "I'm sorry, son. But this incident is just too big. If that man dies, and Dartmouth is seen to not have taken any disciplinary action… well, it's just too big." _I hate this. But we're on the rise again, and we can't afford any bad publicity if the patient dies. We can't be seen to be putting out graduates with any kind of scandal attached. _

I finally sat up, my hands dropping to the armrests of the chair in my shock. I hadn't even fathomed _this _possibility. Was this really happening?

"I know this action may seem harsh," the Dean continued in a gentler voice. "But it isn't the end of the world, Mr. Cullen. You're a bright young man, and perhaps in a couple more years, when you're a bit older, you can give it another go." _Somewhere else. I KNEW this was a bad idea, letting him in. I knew it in my gut. Just because he's a genius doesn't give him the maturity to deal with these kinds of things. I still don't see what possessed him to run out of there like a maniac._

I clenched my jaw in silence, my shock quickly turning to shame and anger. I knew all too well what had possessed me; I had certainly been carrying it around long enough. Running out like a maniac was the only good decision I had made yesterday. Of course, I had made it at exactly the _wrong_ moment. The very action that had saved my patient's life was the one that might still take it. The irony was sickening, and my granite stomach twisted in protest. Was this was nausea felt like?

"Sir," I said through my teeth, "is there any chance for reconsideration, at the board level? My grades-"

"-are exemplary. I'm well aware of that. But this incident isn't the only strike against you, Cullen. I've been getting more and more complaints lately about your attendance, and you've always been spotty with your lab participation."

My hands gripped the ends of the handrests, and the wood began to buckle under my fingers. "You know that my hemophilia prevents my participation in some areas."

"This isn't about your condition! It's about you not showing up to class at all. I remember hearing some of your first-year professors say that they actually saw you _leave_ in between your lectures and the accompanying labs! Or that you've been seen just sitting in your car while your classmates go to class! No," he added, holding up his hand against my protest. "Don't bother. None of this would have been an issue if yesterday hadn't happened. But it did, and the board put all that together with the incident yesterday. They're of the opinion that you're simply not ready to enter the medical field, in terms of maturity and judgment. And I must admit, I share their opinion, Mr. Cullen. Regardless of your record, or your attendance, the decision has been made. You and Dartmouth are parting ways, as of right now."

The rest of the meeting was a blur. I signed some sort of withdrawal form and felt the Dean's hand shaking mine as he wished me good luck. As I turned to go, my eye caught on the two stacks of certificates sitting on the Dean's file cabinet. Mine was somewhere in the first stack, and I had been less than a week from receiving it.

I walked numbly outside, not bothering to check the sky. As the rain hit my face, I looked around for my car; but it wasn't here, of course. It was still parked down in Connecticut. I shoved my fisted hands in the pockets of my lab coat and, taking a last look back at the hospital where Dr. Warren was still waiting for me, I walked out into the rain.

.

.

.

I didn't bother running this time; I had nowhere to go. I wandered up into the mountains, to the top of Arethusa Falls. This was the spot I liked to come to sometimes, when I wanted to be alone. The pounding of the water two hundred feet below, punctuated by the thunder, was a soothing noise in my head. I walked up to the top and sat down on the wet rocks, my chin on my knees. I stared down the length of the Falls beneath me, trying to make some sense of what had just happened.

The facts were simple. John Lewis was lying in a hospital bed right now, fighting for his life. The surgery itself had been risky enough; he would have been lying in a hospital bed today regardless of my interference. But instead of just getting his valve repaired, he had been stabbed through the heart in the aftermath of my disruptive presence. They had pulled him back from the brink of death, but just barely. His heart was already weak to begin with, and the cardiac arrest likely caused further permanent damage, to say nothing of the direct injury itself. For all I knew, he was already dead.

Because of me.

The words of the Hippocratic Oath were blaring in my ears, rising above the sound of the waterfall. Not the twentieth-century gibberish that I had sworn earlier this month, but the one that Carlisle had first sworn. _Do no harm. Do no harm. Do no harm._

I felt sick as I thought of Carlisle. I would have to tell him the truth, immediately. I needed him to go down to Connecticut and see if there was anything he could do for Mr. Lewis. After the damage I had done to this poor man's life, the least I could do was get him seen by the most experienced physician in the world. I just hoped my patient still _had_ a life. His trusting thoughts echoed in my mind again, taunting me.

_I feel safer with him here, somehow._

I bowed my face against my knees as another thunderclap sounded, and my shame ignited into anger as the lightning flashed around me. Why had I done this? Why had I thrown everything away with one foolish, arrogant decision? I had been succeeding. For once in my life, I had felt that I was doing something useful. I had felt that I had a purpose. I had felt _worthy_. But I had somehow managed to get myself not only kicked out of medical school, mere days away from graduation, but I had also managed to break the Oath, mere days after swearing it. My hands twisted harder into my hair at the thought of confessing these things to Carlisle, along with my lie from yesterday. What was he going to say? What was he going to _think?_

I took my fists out of my hair, staring down at my shaking hands. Were they already stained with Mr. Lewis' blood? Was his face about to join the crowd of my accusers? I hissed as they appeared again, the men I had killed. Their faces stared up at me from the rushing spray of rain and water beneath me, as they chanted their mantra.

_Murderer._

Was this it, then? Was this all that I was? Would even my best intentions only add to the ranks of my victims? Was I capable of being anything but a monster, in the end? An angry growl rumbled in my chest, trying to drown out the sound of the familiar hallucination. There were plenty of things around me that I could smash in the fury of my self-hatred- trees, nearby animals, rocks. One well-aimed kick and I could destroy the waterfall forever- and I would, if I thought it would silence the chorus mocking me now. Instead, I only had the desire to destroy the lies that I wore. I tore my lab coat off my shoulders and my stethoscope with it. I stood and threw them against the waterfall's downward tide and watched as my dreams quickly drowned themselves.

I wasn't _just_ a monster. I was worse than that.

I was a failure.


	8. Flashpoint

Hours passed, and the rain was relentless. I was grateful, though; it kept me alone. I just sat, a rain-soaked statue atop the waterfall, staring into its depths until I finally found the energy to stand up. When I did, I finally noticed that the gray rainclouds had somehow turned into dusk. Cursing myself for my inattention, I broke into a run. My one hope was that Carlisle might be able to do something for John Lewis, but I may have just spent that hope with my hours of uselessness. I ran faster.

When I reached our house, I listened for Carlisle's mind, but couldn't find it. I frowned up at the sky; had he already left for work? It didn't seem to be that late. And Esme and Emmett were gone, as well. Only Rosalie's mind greeted me as she opened the front door.

"There you are," she said, frowning when she saw my dripping form. She peeked around me, looking out toward the driveway. "Where's your car?"

"Where are they?" I demanded, pushing past her and sniffing the air. "I need to talk to Carlisle."

"Out looking for _you_. And Emmett's in town getting me a new timing gear. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I sighed. "Did they say how long they'd be?"

"Not long," she said absently. "So, Edward, I've been thinking…"

I was already heading back for the door, pointedly ignoring my sister; she obviously wanted something. She always did, when she used this syrupy voice. Whatever it was, I didn't have time for it. I jerked the door back open, frowning when I realized that the rain had drowned out the scent trail of my parents.

"Which way did they go?" I asked.

She just shrugged. "I don't know, I wasn't watching. Anyway, about the Jaguar…"

I leaned against the door frame, staring uselessly at the woods. "What?"

"I was just thinking, you know, you'll hardly ever be using it, once you head down to Yale. And you won't even be using that much during the summer, right?"

I frowned, turning impatiently to face her. Her thoughts were just as syrupy and useless as her words. "So what?"

"So, let's trade. "

"Trade what?"

"Cars. I drive more than you do, so-"

She keep talking, her childish prattle running together with the fear and anger already stewing inside of me. Why did _she_ have to be the one home, of all people? This was just like her, too; I had already seen our parents' worried faces in her memory, and she was blind if she had bought my knee-jerk "I'm fine" earlier. She was completely incapable of seeing anything but herself, as usual. The flame of my anger flickered higher, and I turned back away from her to stare at the woods again.

"So, how about it?"

"How about what?" I growled, gripping the door frame harder. When was Carlisle going to get back? For all I knew, John Lewis was breathing his last right now. I stretched my gift out into the forest to-

"The Jaguar!" she moaned. "Weren't you listening to anything I said?"

I turned back toward her again, my teeth bared. "Rosalie, for once in your life, would you _shut up_?!"

She jerked backward a step, shocked by my words and my face. My disgust only grew as I saw myself in her vision; I looked _horrible_.

"What's the matter with you?" she demanded, her own eyes darkening. "I just asked you a simple question!"

"What's the matter with me?" I echoed in disbelief, taking my hand away from the door. "What's the matter with me is that you're standing there jabbering while I'm obviously trying to concentrate! Contrary to what you think on a daily basis, Rosalie, the world does _not_ revolve around you! Now leave me alone!"

"Well excuse _me_," she hissed back, "I didn't realize that the great Edward Cullen was too busy for conversation today! I'll make an appointment next time!" She spun on her heel and headed for the kitchen. _Jerk! I'll just go work on the stupid Lincoln… again! I can't tell you how many parts I've had to replace. Did you EVER change the oil while I was gone? And I've had to…_

As her mental pouting began, my anger exploded, and in that moment, I hated my sister. I hated her for being so disgustingly selfish. I hated her for being the spoiled, bratty daughter that she was. I hated her for leaving and hurting Esme, just to come back home the minute she needed more spending money. I hated her for finding her perfect mate a measly _two_ years after waking up. I hated her for waking up with an unnaturally mild thirst, one which was _completely_ wasted on someone who had no intention of ever doing anything useful with her life!

"Go on," I sneered. "Go tinker in your garage! Go stare at your reflection in the chrome for two hours for all I care. But whatever you do, keep your selfish mumblings to yourself, and stay out of my sight!"

She was back in my face before I had finished, trembling with her own anger. "You know, I didn't miss this at all!" she shouted. "It's not my fault I can't have any mental peace in my own house! If you don't like what I'm thinking, then stay out of my head!"

"I wish I could!" I shouted back. "I've spent the past week listening to you whining to yourself that you don't have a better car, more shoes, and I'm sick of it! We both know you only came back here because you ran out of money, and freeloading off our parents _still_ isn't enough for you, is it? Not that I'm surprised. Before you came along, I'd never had the displeasure of listening to anyone as childish and self-centered as you! I can't _believe_ Carlisle thought I would actually _want_ you!"

The words exploded in the air between us as soon as they left my mouth, and she stopped trembling; she was frozen solid. "What did you just say to me?" she whispered.

I should have stopped there. I should have remembered that no one had ever told Rosalie the awkward truth about Carlisle's choice. I should have shut my big mouth and gotten as far away from the house as possible. But her quiet shock was only fueling my anger. It was really for myself, but she was right here in front of me; my anger had to go somewhere, before it blew me apart.

"Why do you _think_ he changed you?!" I challenged. "He already had Esme! Did you think it was just because you were _beautiful_!?"

She took one step backward, grinding her teeth. Yes, she had always thought that. Of course she had.

"Well, you're right," I spat. "He was going to leave you there to die on the street, at first. He lets people die all the time, Rosalie! But then it occurred to him that he had finally found a girl _so_ beautiful that I might not need to be alone anymore. That I would find with you what he had found with Esme. And so he brought you home and made you like me. He made you _for_ me! It was the most monumentally _stupid_ thing that he ever did!"

She slapped me so hard that my face hit the wall, and the house was filled with a hideous screeching sound as her nails ripped four jagged lines across my face. I jerked myself out of the broken drywall, my vision red and trembling again. For the first time in my life, I was going to hurt a woman, and I couldn't stop myself. I lunged at her, snarling, but I slammed right into the brick wall of Carlisle's arms. Esme was already pulling Rosalie out of the room, toward the kitchen. Both she and Carlisle were shouting for us to calm down, and Rosalie was screaming at Carlisle now, demanding to know if it was really true. I was shouting as well, though I would later have no memory of what I had said. Carlisle dragged me out of the house and into the woods, where I finally sank to my knees in the mud.

"I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_," I moaned into my hands. Then I hissed in pain as he knelt and examined the wounds on my face. I was already healing, though, and his attention was divided between my torn skin and the shouting coming from the house. Esme was still holding Rosalie back from following me outside, and finishing what she started. Finally she quieted in her mother's arms, and broke down crying.

Carlisle finally pulled his attention away from the house, looking back at me in disbelief. _Well?!_

I just shook my head, running my finger through my wet hair to dislodge the bigger chunks of drywall that clung to it. Rosalie was mentally spewing every insult she could think of while she wept in Esme's arms. And I knew that Carlisle had heard the last thirty seconds of what I had said, or more. He had heard me hurt Rosalie in the worst way possible, and then he had heard me insult _him_. This was not how this conversation was supposed to begin. Not at all.

"Edward," he said stiffly. "You will start talking, _now._ And it had better be good." _And you can start by telling me what happened yesterday._

"Yesterday?" I asked in alarm.

He stood up, pulling me with him. ""I think I can tell when my own son is lying to me. I'm not stupid, you know." _Monumentally or otherwise!_ "I waited all day yesterday for you to come to me with the truth, and you chose not to. But your time is up, and you _will_ tell me everything, _immediately_."

I bowed my head in shame, speaking to the ground. "I did come home to tell you, just now," I said lamely. "But Rosalie was-"

"We'll deal with _that_ later," he said sharply. "It's obvious that whatever happened yesterday is the real problem. Now what is it?" I looked back up at him, shaking my head again as I tried to force the words out of my throat. They wouldn't come. "Edward," he sighed. "I'm trying to be patient. Really, I am. Just tell me what happened, and we'll go on from there."

"The hand surgery was cancelled," I finally said, my voice coming out too high. "I thought they were just going to send me home… "

The rest came out in a rush, and Carlisle stood immobile until I had told him everything: Dr. Glenn, the surgery, my ill-timed escape, the danger during the fight with Emmett, my dismissal from Yale and Dartmouth, the awful truth that I had learned from the Dean this morning. "And that's why I need your help," I said in conclusion. "I need you to go down there, and make sure he's all right. Make sure they haven't missed any kind of subtle arrhythmia, or post-operative infection, because the second doctor hadn't washed his hands, and what if-"

"Edward," Carlisle interrupted gently. "Edward." _I'm so sorry. I didn't know. _He finally took me in his arms, and I wept against his shoulder. I wept for my foolishness, for my arrogance, for almost tearing my brother to shreds, for what I had just done to my sister, for lying to and insulting my father, for being weak, for everything. I wept for the crushing disappointment that Carlisle must be feeling right now, even as he dedicated every inch of his mind to comforting me.

A moment later, I felt a third hand on my shoulder, and the warm tone of Esme's thoughts told me that she had been listening, as well. Rosalie's mind was nowhere to be heard. I pulled away from Carlisle only to be captured again by my mother's fierce, gentle hug.

"I'm sorry," I sighed in her ear. "Where is she?"

_She needed some time alone. We'll worry about that later. Did you say you needed Carlisle to do something?_

I stood up fully, extricating myself from her arms. "Yes. Carlisle, can you go right now?"

He frowned. "Go where?"

"To Yale-New Haven. To see John Lewis."

"I'm not his physician, Edward. They're not going to let me examine him."

"I know they won't _let_ you. You can just pose as a visitor, or something."

He let out a long sigh. "All right. Esme, can you call into work for me? Tell them I've caught that flu bug. Edward, you need to go hunt, and then you need to clean up before we go."

"_We_?" I asked incredulously. "You can't possibly think it's a good idea for _me_ to go back there!"

"He's _your_ patient, Edward. I don't know a single thing about his history, or what his valve sounded like before, or even what he looks like. I need you to be there."

"_Was_ my patient," I reminded him coldly. "And he'll probably have another heart attack if he sees me."

Carlisle smiled sadly. "I doubt that, son. The patient is always the last one to hear about it when things go wrong in surgery." _And it's important that you go. You need to see him, to know that he's all right- so that YOU can be all right. _

"I'll just see it in your thoughts," I protested. "I don't need to go."

"Edward," he said, his smile fading. "You're going." _Now go hunt._

"Fine," I sighed. "But can't we just leave now? I've wasted enough time as it is, and he might-"

"Look at yourself," Esme scolded. "Do you honestly think they would let you visit him looking like _that_?"

I took another glance at my appearance in the mirror of her mind, and shook my head sheepishly. My hair was plastered to my face, half dried from the rain and covered with drywall dust from when Rosalie had hit me. My left cheek still bore four fading lines, as well. My slacks were filthy from sitting in the mud all day, and my eyes were black again, my face drawn and starved from the draining aftereffects of my shock this morning, and then my rage just now.

"I'll be quick," I promised Carlisle, and dashed out into the forest as Esme headed back toward the house to make the call. Carlisle was left to stand alone, still processing all that I had told him. I was glad, now, to have an excuse to absent myself from his mind. Coward that I was, I had no desire to hear his thoughts in the moment when the reality of my failure hit him. By the time I returned to the house, he would no doubt have his mind back in order, ready to play the forgiving father again. Of _course_ he was being understanding; why had I expected anything less? Once again, I had been so jaded my own ineptitude that I hadn't even given him the-

I needed to stop this. I wasn't important right now- my patient was. I needed to get my mind off of myself, hunt, and get back to the house. I turned sharply to the right, following the first scent I found: one of Emmett's bears. I had caught up to him in five seconds, and he was drunk and buried in less than a minute. I flung one last handful of dirt onto the grave, took a deep breath, and headed for home at top speed, hoping to God that Rosalie wasn't back yet.

.

.

.

I needn't have worried. Rosalie was long gone, and Esme had gone out search for her. Carlisle nodded me into the house, and I showered and changed as quickly as possible, trying to stay out of his head the entire time. I heard his engine start while I was still getting my shoes on.

_Come on, Edward! I want to get there by seven._

I took the shortcut out my window, and we were soon speeding down the highway. "Why seven?" I asked.

"Shift change. It's always the best time for… things you don't want noticed." He smiled a bit, remembering a few of his more inhuman achievements, always done in a rush when his coworker's backs were turned. "And besides, visiting hours won't go much beyond that. Now, tell me everything you know about your patient's history."

I recited everything I knew about John Lewis, including everything I had heard in his mind. The rest of the drive was spent in awkward silence, as Carlisle did his best to think about everything except the obvious. _I_ certainly wasn't going to bring it up.

When we pulled into the parking lot, though, Carlisle turned to me. "Edward," he said grimly, "you need to be prepared for the possibility that your patient may have died. Not everyone survives cardiac surgery, and from what you've told me, Mr. Lewis' chances going in were 50/50, at best."

"And that was _before_ he got stabbed through the heart," I muttered under my breath.

He let out a sigh as we got out of the car. _Look. I agree that you made a mistake, walking into that OR. And I agree you made a mistake staying in there as long as you did. But you made those mistakes with good intentions. And the rest was simply an accident, son. That's all. We've dealt with far worse. So please, don't do this to yourself… not again._

I smiled sadly, nodding in acknowledgement of his effort. He wasn't finished, though. _And speaking of… logistics, I also wanted you to come so that you can make sure there aren't any suspicions arising from your actions yesterday. I doubt there will be a problem, though. It was wise of you not to protest your dismissal- that could have made things more complicated. _

"I know," I said softly as we approached the main desk. There was a candy striper just sitting down to replace another, and Carlisle checked his watch. 7:02; perfect.

"Good evening," he told her pleasantly, flashing his most winning smile. "Still taking visitors?"

She looked back and forth between our faces, swallowing. _Anytime._ "Yes, sir. Name?"

"John Lewis. He's recovering from heart surgery yesterday."

She picked up the clipboard listing the inhabitants of the Med-Surg floor, scanning the list. "I'm sorry, sir, it look like he's not here. Are you sure you have the right name?"

Carlisle's response swam over my head. He wasn't there. I had _killed_ him. My grip on the counter tightened, and I closed my eyes.

"Oh, wait!" the candy striper said cheerfully. "Let me check the AS roster."

"AS?" I echoed hopefully. "Is that some kind of recovery room?"

"No, it's a special unit- we just opened it last week. 'Advanced Support'. It's for those patients…" she glanced up pityingly at Carlisle. "It's for those patients who need a little extra care, like our Mr. Lewis. And here he is!" She turned the clipboard around, pointing to his room number.

I let out a sigh of cautious relief; he might be just holding on, but at least he was alive.

"I've never heard of Advanced Support," Carlisle whispered to me on the stairs. "Have they said anything about that at Dartmouth?"

I shook my head. "No, but I'll…" I was about to say, I'll ask one of my professors tomorrow. But I wouldn't be doing that anymore, now would I? Carlisle had just lost his most direct source of new medical information. "I'll find out more," I promised.

"No, it's all right. We'll learn a lot just by being here. I'm curious to see how it differs from a normal unit."

We found Mr. Lewis lying in a complicated-looking bed, surrounded by beeping machines, wires and tubes, and all sort of confusing smells. There was even an electrocardiograph machine, silent now but with a length of paper hanging out of it. Balanced precariously on the edge of the machine was a thick medical chart, and an empty chair sat wedged next to the bed. The "unit" was really just a big room, with three other beds and patients in the other corners, and a couple of nurses flitting about. Our patient's mind was silent. He had an oxygen mask, tubes draining his chest and bladder, and a blood transfusion dripping through his I.V. My thirst flickered at the sight of the blood bag, and I turned my face away in disgust. I had never seen blood in a plastic bag before, and it just made it look all the more appetizing. At least his chest was safely out of sight, wrapped in a hefty mound of bandages.

_I don't see anything unusual here. Cardiac surgery is a pretty rough procedure, after all. I would think the healthiest of patients would have all this monitoring afterward. Are you hearing any thoughts, dreams?_

I shook my head, and we stepped closer. Carlisle looked around to ensure that the nurses were occupied, and then he scooped up the chart, flipping through the notes at top speed while I kept watch.

_Everything looks fine. I don't-_

"Put it down," I whispered, seeing a woman approaching. Carlisle calmly laid the chart aside, and turned around with a smile.

"Hello there," he said kindly. I recognized the woman from Mr. Lewis' thoughts back at Dartmouth: this was Janey, his fiancée. From the food odors arising from her clothes, she had just slipped downstairs for a quick meal and was coming back to continue her vigil.

"Hello," she said sleepily. "Are you a friend of John's?"

"Yes, from work," Carlisle lied. "My name is John, as well. And I just brought my brother, Sam, along for the ride," he added, indicating me.

"I'm Janey, his fiancée," she said. She was about to extend her hand to us, but then thought better of it. "It was kind of you to come all this way."

Carlisle motioned her toward the empty chair. "Please, sit down. We won't be a minute. How's he doing?"

Janey sank tiredly into the chair, whisking her mussed hair out of her eyes. Then she picked up Mr. Lewis' limp hand, rubbing it. "The doctors are saying that it's still touch and go," she admitted. "Although the nurses think he will pull through. I guess the surgery ended up being more complicated than John expected. They said he lost a lot of blood, and almost… they said he almost didn't make it." Her voice quivered slightly at the end. _I almost lost him. I might still lose him._

"It happens often," Carlisle said smoothly. "Sometimes, the surgeon gets in and discovers that more work needs to be done than could have been predicted. This can make the surgery longer, and more complicated. And cardiac surgery is a relatively new field, by any count."

Janey's eyes widened. "Are you a doctor? I thought you said-"

Carlisle shook his head. "No, but I have a cousin who had this same procedure done earlier this year. They thought it was just going to be a simple valve repair, but I guess when they got in there, they found some other problems. They were able to fix everything at once, but he lost a lot of blood, like John did. Anyway, he pulled through in the end, and he's doing well now."

"That's wonderful," she replied. "Maybe it will be the same for my John. He was awake for a bit around lunchtime- do you think that's a good sign?"

My shoulders sagged in relief, and I smiled hopefully at Carlisle. "Yes," he said warmly. "I think that's a very good sign. My cousin didn't wake up for three days."

_He's going to make it!_ "Oh, I can't tell you what a relief it is to hear you say that," she sighed. Then she smiled for the first time, planting a gentle kiss on her fiancée's hand. "When he was awake earlier, he told me that he had an angel watching over him in the surgery."

_Or a demon_, I thought grimly, my own smile fading. Mr. Lewis was beginning to wake up now, his mind responding to the sound of Janey's voice, and her touch. He had understood her last sentence, and was indeed picturing me standing above him, smiling and glowing serenely in the fluorescent lights of the OR.

"He's about to wake up," I whispered to Carlisle. "We should go."

Carlisle moved a step closer to Mr. Lewis. "Well, John, feel better soon," he said aloud as he took a deep sniff and a quick glance at the EKG readout. We both nodded politely to Janey, and left.

.

.

.

"I didn't smell any sort of infection," Carlisle reported as he started the engine again. "How did the valve sound to you, compared to before?"

"Better," I replied. "Though not normal."

"I'm sure he'll always have a bit of a murmur there. And I would think the valve will be inflamed for some time, considering the trauma that it went through during the repair. I think he'll be just fine."

"Good," I sighed. "So you don't think the cardiac arrest caused too much damage?"

He hesitated briefly. "I did see some abnormalities on the EKG readout. But it would be impossible to say whether they were caused by the infarction itself, or by the years of strain. His heart has been fighting against that valve his whole life. There was bound to already be some tissue death."

I shook my head. "Dr. Warren said his EKG looked good, back at Dartmouth."

"Did you see the readout yourself?"

"No…"

"Then he was probably just trying to put his patient at ease. I'd be surprised if his EKG was truly normal that day."

I nodded, happy to accept his explanation. "And what did the chart say about… what happened?"

Instead of answering, he just showed me the page as he had seen it. Dr. Glenn's scribbling was hardly legible, but he had obviously glossed over the incident, noting that the closing of the cardiac incision had been complicated by hemorrhage, and that a second physician had been introduced into the procedure to assist. The time and duration of defibrillation were noted, and that was that. The rest of the documentation detailed the repair of the valve itself, placement of chest tubes, closure of the chest cavity, and so on. The second doctor's signature was attached to the end of the surgical note, and the anesthesiologist's note was even briefer.

"That was nice of him."

"Hardly," Carlisle said with a small laugh. "Did you really expect him to put it in writing that he accidentally incised the right atrium?"

"But I was the one who-"

"Edward, you're a medical student, and this wasn't even a residency. You're a non-entity, in terms of documentation. You have no liability."

"_Was_ a medical student," I muttered.

He looked over at me, frowning. "I really am sorry about that, son. I know you were really enjoying medical school. But that's the beauty of being immortal; you can just start again if you like, when we move next. I still have plenty of letterhead from Stockholm."

I let out a bitter laugh, turning away from him to look out the window. "You can't be serious."

Carlisle clenched his jaw, looking over at me again. _I was afraid of this. _He glanced up in the rear view mirror, thinking about pulling over to lecture me about my tendency to be too hard on myself.

"Just drive, please," I sighed. This was starting to really remind me of another car ride, fifteen years ago… one which I had no desire to repeat. Carlisle now recalled the same memory, and nodded his understanding. Instead of pulling over, he checked back over his shoulder, and then along the highway ahead. Seeing few drivers around, and no police, he turned off his headlights and sped up, easily overtaking the few drivers that we encountered. My presence ensured that we wouldn't be spotted; I would, as usual, have plenty of warning if we were about to pass a patrol car. I suspected that he was doing this just to give me something to occupy my mind with. I wouldn't complain, though; he meant well. I sat up straighter in my seat, dutifully stretching my gift out in front of us for the remainder of the ride.

"You need to keep this in perspective," he began. "Like I said before, it was an accident. You went into that surgery thinking that a cardioscope would be used. You had no way of knowing that there was going to be an incision into the heart itself."

"It wasn't just that," I admitted quietly. "I could have hunted the night before, like you wanted me to. I could have gotten out of the surgery altogether. And my thirst was going strong before I even saw the heart. And then, just _seeing_ it…" I shuddered, remembering how the sight had awakened the monster within. "I mean, have you ever _looked_ at a beating human heart, Carlisle?"

"Yes," he said reverently. "But rarely. You know I'm too young to ever go into any kind of specialty, or even practice as a general surgeon. But I have, on occasion, had to access the heart directly, in emergency care." _It's a wondrous sight, isn't it? A muscle no bigger than a man's fist, and yet it is engineered to keep the body alive for a good eighty years, without maintenance of any kind. No invention of man will ever come close to the perfection of that design. It's one of the greatest mysteries of Creation, in my opinion._

I just shook my head slightly, unsure whether I was more disgusted with his saintly innocence, or with my complete inability to achieve it. I had shared his awe, for a second or two during the surgery; but that awe had quickly taken an ominous turn.

"Of course," Carlisle continued. "It wasn't always like that for me. I struggled in the beginning, as well." His memory drifted back to a French countryside. He was under the tutelage of a country doctor, and they were in a dark, damp cottage, tending to a small girl's lacerated arm. It was the first time Carlisle had been allowed to stitch up a patient, and I felt the burn in his memory as he sewed. At one point, he had to turn his face away, to get a breath of cleaner air. He showed me other memories like this, in which his thirst had plagued him. But in each one, the burn he relayed to me was pitifully small compared to what I struggled with during the surgery, _before_ I had seen the heart. And he had certainly never been obliged to run out of any rooms, or even come near it. Was this supposed to make me feel better?!

"I appreciate the sentiment," I said stiffly. "But your thirst in those memories was an annoyance, a bother. You obviously have no _concept_ of the kind of thirst I'm talking about."

His hand tightened on the steering wheel. _That's only because I have never carried the same burden that you do._

"I'm well aware of that," I snapped. "Thirst takes on a whole new meaning when you've acted on it before. If _you_ had murdered nearly a thousand-"

"That wasn't what I was referring to, and you know it! I was referring to your telepathy. When you were in that OR, you were getting, what, five views of the heart and the blood at once? Six?"

"Five."

"Exactly. My point is, I can't understand what it's like to be bombarded like that, even if it's only from human viewpoints, human senses of smell. But I won't be accused of not _understanding_ about thirst, Edward. I have dealt with a level of thirst that _you_ can't comprehend."

I saw a new memory now, one he had always been careful never to show me: himself, in the year 1663. He had been a newborn for three months, and had never fed. He was kneeling on the bank of a stagnant creek, his black eyes staring back up at him in fear and disgust. His ragged shirt was soaked with the venom that was his constant companion. His whole body was trembling, and his hands were dug deep into the ground in an attempt to keep himself still, and not run toward the village twenty miles away, where he knew a feast was waiting for him. His thoughts were torn between the bloody fantasies he was trying to ignore, and his anger at the water in front of him. He was angry that it was reflecting his monstrous form, and he was angry that he was unable to quench his thirst with it. And then Carlisle let himself remember, just for a split second, what his thirst had felt like that day. I saw it coming, and tensed myself against it; but it was clear that his whole body had felt like it was on fire. Carlisle shuddered and ended the memory abruptly.

"Even then," he said quietly, "you're not seeing the whole picture. I can't relay to you the desperation I felt at the time, the fear that I would soon give in. And my horror at the… the excitement I felt, knowing I would soon feed, once I completely lost control. So for heaven's sake, let's have no more talk of me not _understanding_."

"Point taken," I admitted. He was right; I had never felt the thirst that badly before. I was humbled anew by the iron will with which he had begun this life.

Carlisle released his grip on the wheel, chiding himself. _This isn't about me._ "My point is, son, that you're not alone. And this mistake- this accident- is very minor compared to the things that we've dealt with before. I just want you to keep that in mind. This is not something that you need to torture yourself over- it's the sort of thing that you need to learn from, and to move on from."

"I've learned plenty," I countered. "I've learned that going to medical school is a bad idea."

"I'm not so sure about that. You've been able to maintain your control during your clinicals- which was no easy task. The temptation you faced yesterday was extreme, and I think you could, with some care, avoid that sort of situation in the future. But you've had this goal for ten, maybe fifteen years now. If this is something you truly enjoy, I don't think you should give up so easily. You literally have all the time in the world to explore your interests, and there's nothing wrong with starting over. You would have had to do that anyway, in a few years. I do it all the time." _I know how much you've enjoyed medical school, and you know how much I've enjoyed watching you grow in this new way. I don't want to see you deny yourself a choice that brings you happiness, just because you feel like you don't deserve it. You do deserve it._

I opened my protest in protest, but he held up his hand. "No. Stop right there. This setback has _nothing _to do with that part of your life." _It's been almost twenty years, Edward. Please, leave the past to the past._

I clenched my teeth shut, resisting the urge to argue the point. This had _everything_ to do with those dark years. When I had seen Mr. Lewis' heart exposed, and the blood it was offering me, everything had come back in full force. Even now, here in the car at night, I could practically taste the human blood on my tongue, just as clearly as the last time I had drunk it back in 1931. My memory of those years, of that _taste_, would never fade. Never. And I had demonstrated all too clearly yesterday that the monster I had unleashed during those years would never be as subdued as I had hoped. But I didn't want to get into all this again with Carlisle tonight; I just didn't have it in me.

"You're right," I said quietly, pleased with how calm I sounded. I forced myself to relax back in my seat, and to stare forward instead of out my window; these were the sort of things he was hoping to see, signs that I was all right. That I wasn't going to go off on one of my "guilt trips", as he liked to call them, when he thought I wasn't listening. Sure enough, he relaxed a moment after I did.

_You're really all right? I mean, I know this is still a disappointment, a blow to your… pride._

"I'll get over it," I said, even throwing him a smirk for good measure. "Like you said, I have forever to try again." He smiled back uncertainly, but nodded. I felt a little guilty; this was a bit like lying again. But the alternative was just too much.

"Good. Now, about Rosalie…"

We both tensed again as he spoke her name. Now that my worry about Mr. Lewis was fading, I was hit in the face with the terrible sin I had committed against my sister. I had hurt her in the one way I knew would break her heart. And worse; I had done it in a way that got Carlisle involved. I couldn't predict which of us Rosalie was going to be angrier at, when we got home.

Carlisle was thinking along the same lines. "Edward, I'm going to need your help when we get there. I'm going to stop just off the highway, and I want you to let me know what her thoughts are like."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, unsure of what to say. Rosalie hated it when I shared her thoughts with anyone, even when we _weren't_ at each other's throats. And I had always tried to not answer questions like these. Carlisle had finally, somewhere during our travelling in the forties, stopped asking me to give him "tips" regarding Esme's thoughts. He hadn't asked me to do this in years.

"You'd better talk to her yourself," I said: my pat answer I had always used to avoid these "reconnaissance" moments.

"I will," he answered tightly. "But you're going to help me. I know you don't like betraying the thoughts of others, but this is different. No matter how upset you were today, what you did to her was inexcusable. And the fact that I have to go home and confess that everything you said was _true…_" He gripped the steering wheel again, and this time the metal began to give way under his hand. _You know I never intended to keep the truth from her this long. But whenever I thought it might be the right time to come clean, it always seemed so cruel to say the words…_

"And now I've forced you into it," I finished dismally. "Carlisle, I can't tell you how sorry I am for that. I don't know what came over me. And I certainly didn't mean what I said about… you know, your choice. About you."

"Yes, you did. And in a way, you were right about that, as well. Changing Rosalie, for the reason that I did, probably _was_ the most foolish decision I've ever made. That doesn't mean that good things haven't come from that decision; I'm happy to have Rosalie in our lives, and Emmett as well."

"As am I," I said quickly. "And you're right, I got you into this mess. The least I can do is help you out of it. I'll go in there first, when we get home, and talk to her-"

"No. All I want is for you to tell me what you're hearing, when we approach the house. For better or for worse, I'm the one who needs to explain myself to Rosalie. Bringing you back into it is just going to upset her more." _In fact, I think it might be best if you move away from the house while I speak with her. I think she would appreciate the mental space._

"And my absence," I sighed. "You're right. I'll do it. Slow down, policeman."

Carlisle turned his lights back on and slammed the brakes, quickly dropping his speed to a legal level. We rolled by the patrol car at what felt like a snail's pace, and sped up again when the coast was clear. Still, it was nothing like the Jaguar…

"Carlisle… I realize that what I did to her was awful. Do you think I should give her the car?" He just looked at me in confusion, and I explained the earlier part of the conversation with Rosalie, which he hadn't overheard.

"I think that's between you two," he said , when I had finished. "Yes, what you did to her was wrong. But she acted in anger as well, and hitting you during an argument was wrong, as well. I'm not going to punish either of you, just because you got into a fight. I've got enough to deal with as it is, without worrying about who drives what car."

"The car!" I moaned, closing my eyes in exasperation.

"What?"

"It's still parked back at Yale! I could have brought my keys tonight and driven it back."

He smiled tiredly. "Well, it'll give you the chance to check on your patient one more time. Besides, I'm glad we had the chance to talk."

Carlisle drove even faster after that, and he was off in his own world as he prepared what he was going to say to Rosalie. With half of my attention on the minds ahead of me, I continued to mull over all that had happened in the past two days… all that I had done. It was quite a list.

But I was also turning over Carlisle's memories in my mind- the ones he had shown me tonight about him "struggling" with his thirst back in his early days of practicing medicine. He had purposely picked the memories in which his thirst had been the strongest. He had thought he was commiserating with me, when in fact the memories had only served to demonstrate the difference between us.

And then there was the other memory, from his newborn year: the suffering he had endured during the months he had starved himself. It was a story that he had only hinted at, back when I was new; he had already been aware of the pain that his own thirst brought me, and so he had always been careful not to even _think_ about those first months when he was around me. And we hadn't discussed it since; it was hardly a happy story. But now he had finally given me a glimpse of just how horrible those months had been for him. It truly was miraculous, what he had done as a newborn. He had never taken me back this far in his memories, never shown me that, yes, there had been a time when all _he_ could think about was blood, blood, blood. That was comforting, in a way; it made him seem more like me. But it was also humbling, because I knew that there was no way on earth I would ever have been able to accomplish such a feat. And finally, it made me feel grateful that Carlisle had been there from the start, ready to help me and teach me when I woke up. He had saved me from ever having to attempt that impossible feat. Carlisle himself hadn't been so lucky. If he hadn't found that herd of deer when he did, all our lives would have been quite different.

.

.

.

My gift was hardly needed, in the end; the tension was almost palpable as we drove up, pausing when the house was just in view. Carlisle's instincts were buzzing, and he was almost afraid to ask what I was hearing.

_Well? What am I walking into?_

"Rosalie and Emmett are in their room." I cocked my head, listening for a moment. "He's angry, too, but mostly at me, for today."

"And Rosalie herself?"

I let out all my breath in a rush. "Let's just say that I'd better get out here. I don't think she's ever been this furious before."

"With you, or me?"

"Me. She's so angry, she's not moving. She's not even breathing. She seems… undecided about whether or not she's angry with you. I think she's waiting to hear your side of the story. And Esme…" I didn't have the heart to tell him that Esme was on the front porch, weeping with her face on her knees. Her thoughts were barely coherent, but it was obvious how guilty she felt for not telling Rosalie the truth sooner. She was worrying about me, and how I might respond if my patient had died. She was worrying what was going to happen when we came in the door. And she kept picturing how happy we had all been to be reunited, two short weeks ago.

A lifetime ago.

_What about Esme?!_

"She's out on the front porch, giving them some space." At least as a vampire, Esme had the ability to compose herself instantly, with no outward sign of her grief; I knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't want to add to Carlisle's burden just now. "So what are you going to tell Rosalie?"

"The truth. And also your situation, if Esme hasn't already done so. It might help Rosalie understand your outburst yesterday… if that's all right with you."

I nodded my permission, and got out of the car. I started running immediately, wanting to give Rosalie the mental space that Carlisle would be promising her. But I couldn't help but listen as I ran. As soon as Rosalie heard Carlisle pull up to the house, she darted outside, demanding again to know if the vile lies I had invented had any truth to them. Esme had tried to console her earlier, and explain things, but Rosalie hadn't wanted to listen- she insisted on waiting to hear Carlisle's explanation.

As Carlisle explained the truth, in his gentle, humble way, Rosalie's mind exploded with anger and hurt. It seemed that up until this moment, she had truly forgiven him for changing her. And it seemed that up until this moment, she truly hadn't believed the "vile lies" that I had fed her earlier. But now, as he confirmed my story, I saw all the old bitterness rushing back in with a vengeance. Emmett was growing angrier, as well, though it was more on Rosalie's behalf than his own. Everyone was talking at once now, a garbled mix of Carlisle's explanations, Rosalie's shouting and crying, Emmett's righteous fury, and Esme's desperate attempt to get everyone to calm down.

I was two miles out now, and I could have easily kept going. I could have easily blocked out the sickness that I heard brewing my family's minds. But I couldn't. I couldn't run another step, and I just leaned my back against a tree, sinking down to the ground and listening.

It wasn't enough that I endanger a man's life, or give him a heart attack. It wasn't enough that I let myself come seconds away from exposing my nature in a public place. I had to hurt my family, as well. I felt most ashamed for Esme's sake; she had been so deliriously happy to have everyone back under one roof, and Rosalie and I had been getting along well, for once. But I had managed to ruin that, as well. And when I went back to the house, it was all just going to explode again, when Rosalie and Emmett saw me.

Emmett was the one who was shouting now. Rosalie was weeping in his arms, and he was demanding to know if I had _asked_ Carlisle to go find me a mate back in 1933. Carlisle was quick to deny that one, and to insist that he was the one who deserved all the blame. Esme's mind was whirling with panic, wondering where I was, and worrying that Rosalie might want to leave again.

I couldn't stand to hear any more after that. I dragged myself to my feet and withdrew further into the woods, Esme's last fearful thought echoing in my mind. If anybody needed to leave, it should be me. I was the one who had torn my family's peace to shreds, after all. I was the one who couldn't contain his monster, who had allowed him to nearly kill my patient. I was the one who allowed him to destroy my composure to the point where _I _had become a monster, hurting my sister in the best way I knew how. Carlisle had been right to have me stay away during the confrontation tonight- my presence would have made it much worse. Maybe the best gift I could give everyone right now was my continued absence.

I hated the thought of leaving. I loved my family deeply, and I had no desire to live alone. But maybe if I left, Rosalie would use her absent brother as a scapegoat, and forgive Carlisle more easily. And I could leave her the Jaguar… that would help, as well. And if I _was_ on my own for a while…

A new possibility occurred to me. I had just been blaming the monster within me for my failings, but the truth was that he… that _I_ had just been following my instincts. The truth was, I had simply underestimated his power over me. I had thought that by scientifically detaching myself, and by beating down my thirst with those damned blood challenges, that I had achieved total control over him, when I clearly hadn't. Until today, I hadn't seen any other way to manage him.

But now a new idea was forming in my mind- an idea that Carlisle himself had given me, in those memories he had shown me tonight. It was clear that by the time Carlisle had begun his own medical training, he had far greater control than I did now, though he was of a similar age. I had always assumed that he had just woken up that way, that his natural compassion simply never allowed him to be tempted like the rest of us. But he had shown me tonight that that wasn't the case. When he had starved himself as a newborn, he had suffered greatly, and it seemed now that perhaps that experience was what had given him his iron-fisted dominance over his monster. He had starved his thirst into submission, from the very start.

Granted, I never could have done it as a newborn, like he had; there was still some intangible, spiritual difference between Carlisle and I. But I wasn't a newborn anymore- I could do it now, I was sure of it. I would take myself as far from human civilization as possible, and I would stop feeding for four months, maybe six. The idea of suffering gave me some peace, like it meant that I could hate myself a little less for all that I had done. But more importantly, my hope was that I could finally achieve what I had been working for all these years: some _real_ self-control. Not this shaky, slippery grip on the monster that I had been depending on. I knew now what had come of _that._ And if it worked, I could return to my family a new man. A man who was ready to try again, like Carlisle had said. And this time, things would be different.

I would be different.

I looked back toward the direction of our house, knowing all too well what Carlisle would think of my plan. He would never allow it, of course- he would never condone the "torture" that I would be inflicting on myself. But I was only following his example, after all. He would never need to find out _how_ I had achieved my new control, when I returned. But he would be proud. I _needed_ him to be proud.

I decided to spend the night out in the forest, thinking. I needed to refine my plan, before returning to the house and the storm that was waiting for me there.

I settled up in a tree, feeling an odd sense of peace and rightness as I began formulating what I would say to explain my departure. I would go soon- I would go tomorrow. The nearness of my separation brought me pain, but also relieved my guilt. True, I had made a mess of things this week. But like Carlisle had said, I was learning from it, I was moving on. I was forming a plan that would allow me to finally beat the monster into submission, to crush him under my heel once and for all. The process would be painful, but I deserved no less. The monster within me deserved no less. I was finally doing what needed to be done.

I was doing the right thing.

* * *

**Aaagh, the angst! That probably should have been two chapters, but I wanted to keep my promise: the next one covers the arrival of Alice and Jasper! It will take a while to prepare, as I will be posting Jasper's outtake and chapter 9 simultaneously. Speaking of, if you've been waiting to read the "Arrival (1 of 2)" outtake to avoid the spoiler, you can read it now :) Alice's new visions were set off by the hand patient deciding to reschedule her surgery, and one thing inevitably led to another. It's a little iffy that she would have seen Edward's decision to leave the day before he made it, but I'll just chalk it up to one of those "character destiny" things. Like how she saw the Volturi coming in BD even before Irina reached Italy. We will eventually find out exactly what it was she saw, but that comes later in the story. I could have had her and Jasper living closer and getting there in less than a day, but I know we've all enjoyed the "racing against time" bit.**

**Thanks again for all the lovely reviews! Poll: who wants to hug poor Edward, and who wants to just smack him? I'm torn, myself...**


	9. Arrival

**The chapter we've all been waiting for! You've all been very patient. And this story is just getting started! Enjoy!**

**Note: I also just posted the "Arrival 2 of 2" Outtake, which covers the arrival from Jasper's POV. If you like doing things chronologically, I would read Jasper's version first, since it covers their arrival before Edward and Emmett get back home.**

* * *

I got back to the house just as dawn was breaking. I found Esme waiting for me just inside our edge of the woods, sitting patiently on a fallen tree. As soon as she caught my scent, she called softly back toward the house.

"He's here."

I listened toward the house, curious to see what she meant. I only found Rosalie's and Emmett's minds present. Rosalie addressed me immediately, her mental voice surprisingly… civil. _We're going out for a while. __Just stay in the woods until I'm gone, all right?_

Emmett was sending me a similar message, though with a rougher tone. _Wait a few minutes before you come in. __Rosalie's trying really hard to stay calm, and I'm taking her out for a while. __But when I get back, you and I need to talk._ That was all I got before he switched over to reciting baseball statistics, along with his viewpoint of Rosalie hurrying to get her shoes and purse ready, and flying out the door. Their thoughts, and the sound of the Lincoln's engine, soon faded away as they drove off.

I turned back to Esme. "What was that about? And where's Carlisle?"

"We explained your situation to Rosalie and Emmett last night. And they do understand, a bit better now, why you were having trouble yesterday. But they're still quite upset, and so they… agreed… that for today, at least, it would be best if you all had some time apart." _Well, they didn't exactly agree. __I told them that was how it was going to be._

She gave me just a few brief glimpses of how the night had gone. She had already tried, while Carlisle and I had been down in Connecticut, to calm Rosalie down, and explain everything- both about her transformation, and about the Yale incident. But Rosalie had refused to listen to any of it, demanding to wait to speak to Carlisle. But once Carlisle was under fire following his confession, Esme had taken charge. She had finally gotten Rosalie alone upstairs, and told her that yes, she understood why she was hurting, and yes, I had been wrong to provoke her. But she had also told her that attacking me physically during an argument had been inexcusable, and that as angry as I was at the time, I really could have hurt her. That was when Rosalie had shut up her crying, and finally listened long enough for Esme to explain _why_ I had been so upset yesterday. She had responded with a very unladylike phrase, but Esme had grown angry herself then, telling Rosalie that we had enough problems this week without her using language like that. She somehow managed to extract Rosalie's promise that no matter her feelings, she and Emmett would return the favor of my absence whenever I returned home.

"It's nothing permanent," she told me quickly. "Just for today. They're going to go hunting together, and they both had some paperwork to do at Dartmouth, and…" she trailed off, looking back up at me with pity. "Oh Edward, I'm so sorry all this has happened. But I'm so glad Mr. Lewis is going to be all right, at least. You don't know how worried I was for you, when, when-"

"Esme, shhh…" I took her in my arms, pulling her close as she tried not to weep, and not to think about what Rosalie and Emmett might be planning in the privacy of their car. I just held her tighter, comforting her in her fumbled attempt to comfort me. "I'm all right, really. Where's Carlisle?"

She smiled sadly, looking down at her hands, which were trembling in her lap. She still had on the same dress as yesterday, and her hair was still a mess from when she had dragged Rosalie away from me. "He's out hunting. It was a difficult night."

She didn't want me to see, but I did. I saw how ashamed Carlisle had looked last night, when she and Rosalie had gone back downstairs. Emmett was towering over our father, his ever-present grin replaced with a scowl. That was when Esme explained the Yale incident to _him_, and repeated her request that he keep Rosalie out for the next day, as I had given them that same consideration during the night. Emmett had grown even angrier after that, demanding to know why Rosalie should have to leave when I was the one who had picked a fight with _her._I couldn't see what sort of look Esme had given him. But whatever it was, it had sure worked. It seemed like he had shrunk a couple of inches, and mumbled his agreement to the floor.

Most of the rest of the evening had been passed in quiet conversation as Carlisle repeated his apology to Rosalie again and again. But she was more than happy to transfer her anger at me onto him, and things had gotten bad again around three in the morning. Esme officially declared the conversation over then, and she and Carlisle had gone outside, giving Rosalie and Emmett the house. Carlisle had, at Esme's insistence, gone hunting soon after that, while she waited for me.

I worked very hard to control my anger as I watched. I understood that Rosalie must be hurting right now. And I deserved any anger that she felt toward me for my horrible words yesterday, and for the fact that I really _would_ have hurt her, had our parents not gotten there in time. I even understood why she was angry at Carlisle, for his choice. But _really_, it was almost twenty years ago! And how did she think Emmett felt, standing there and doing his best to be supportive, as she made abundantly clear to everyone listening that she wished Carlisle had never changed her, for _any_ reason? If had been standing there, listening to my wife spout that venom, and hating her life, I know how _I_ would have felt. I would have felt completely worthless, and that our marriage clearly wasn't enough to compensate for the lot that she had been given. But that was just Rosalie, as always: it was all about her. It was a good thing she was gone, because now I wanted to slap _her._Couldn't she at least _pretend_, for Emmett's sake, that his love was enough? No wonder he had taken it all out on Carlisle.

"I suppose my room's been trashed," I said, hoping to lighten the mood. Esme just shook her head.

"No. She's not… that kind of angry." She didn't seem to have the energy to explain what that meant, or even think about it anymore. She just leaned into my shoulder, staring down at the rumpled skirt of her dress as she played with the fabric. Our feet were dangling off the ground, and I remembered, with a smile, that Esme had once been my sister. Not at home- she had instantly fallen into the role of mothering me, when we were in private. And as her romance with Carlisle had quickly blossomed, that role became even more natural. But our cover story, back in the beginning when she had first begun appearing in public, had been that she was my older sister. Our parents had died two years before that, and she and her wealthy new husband had taken me in. We had first come up with the idea because of our similar hair color, and it had been an easy way to explain the closeness in age, to Carlisle especially.

But our cover story had evolved over the years, and I hadn't played her brother in quite some time. And really, Esme and I hadn't had much in the way of time alone, lately. She was thinking right now that although the reason was a sad one, she was looking forward to spending more time with me in the coming weeks. My smile faded as I realized that I would be taking this away from her, as well. But it was for the best. Her memories of the wretched night they had all passed, and the fact that her children couldn't even be under the same roof right now, only confirmed that I had made the right decision. When Rosalie and Emmett came home tonight, I would already be gone.

"It'll be all right," I promised her. I pulled her even harder against me, turning my face into her hair and inhaling her warm, sweet scent. My favorite scent in the world… I would miss this.

"I know," she said in a faraway voice. "We'll come through it. We always do." But there it was again, her worry about Rosalie and Emmett leaving us. She had been counting on Emmett to calm Rosalie down, but it hadn't turned out that way. "I'm sorry, I keep going on," she said tiredly. "What did you do all night?"

I looked down at my own hands, taking a deep breath. "Not much. I just wanted to give them some space, like you said. And, well, I did some thinking, about what might be next for me…"

Esme turned inside my embrace, smiling hopefully up at me and letting her worries rest for a moment. "Oh? What did you come up with?" _I'm so glad you're moving on from this. __You don't know how worried I was about you last night._

I frowned back at her, unsure whether now was the right time. I had spent most of the night coming up with how I was going to tell me parents that I was leaving. And having Rosalie and Emmett out of the picture was perfect, really. But I couldn't tell Esme like this, right now. For one thing, she was exhausted. It wasn't like her to take charge like she had done last night, and it had worn her down emotionally. And for me to add this burden, without Carlisle here to help her, was too much. And besides, then I would have to explain myself twice.

It wasn't going to be like last time. I knew that my leaving tonight would hurt my parents, or worry them at least. But I would make it clear that this was _not_ history repeating itself. I would explain that I just needed some time to cool down as well, and time to sort things out for myself. I would tell them that I was only planning to be away for a few months, perhaps a year. I would leave calmly, assuring them of my return. I would pack a suitcase this time, and take the Lincoln. I would hunt again today, leaving them with the reassuring memory of my golden eyes. I would even ask for a few samples of the blank letterhead that Carlisle always kept around, so that it would look like I was planning on creating an identity. I would leave no doubt in their minds, visually, that this was nothing like 1927. I would give them some sort of rough itinerary, specific enough that they would see that I had thought my decision through, but be vague enough that it would be clear that I didn't want to be followed.

Because in reality, I would be heading straight up into Northern Canada, into as empty a habitat as I could find. I would need plenty of space, from humans especially, but animals as well. The sense I peace I had felt last night, upon making my decision, had only grown as I made my plans. This was the right thing to do, for myself as well as for my family; and now that I saw how miserable my outburst had made everyone, I was fully determined to leave tonight. I really didn't know how long I would be able to make it without feeding, though. The longest I had ever gone was three and a half weeks. And so the process might take longer, if I had to start over a few times. And there was the possibility that the North Pole wouldn't be empty enough, and I would have to head to Antarctica. But that was all right; that was why I would be giving my parents only a vague guess as to when they could hope for my return.

"Oh, nothing too specific," I said uneasily. "I'd love to talk more with you later, Esme. But you don't look well. Aren't you going to hunt?"

"I'll get out later today," she promised. _I just want to see how Carlisle is, when I get back. __Maybe the three of us could go out together later? __Or maybe just you and me, like old times._

"Yes, I think that would be nice," I said, planting a kiss on her cheek. Dear, dear Esme… I hated that I would have to hurt her later today. But this would be the last time, ever. When I came back, I would be a new man. One that she could depend on… one would wouldn't destroy everything he touched. I jumped off the tree trunk and pulled her inside the house, seating her on the couch in the living room. I spent the rest of the morning playing her favorite piano pieces, and even singing for her. The singing was especially rare, and by the time it was ten thirty, her thoughts were tranquil and hopeful again.

Carlisle returned home then, and after a nod and some mental reassurance to me, he joined Esme on the couch, and listened to my music as well. But I hadn't gotten through two more songs when I heard Emmett's thoughts growing in my mind.

_I'm not supposed to come back yet, but I had nowhere else to go. __She wants some "alone time". __Can you meet me out back? __Tell them I promise not to hurt you… much._

I abruptly stopped playing, and stood, frowning. I should have spoken to Carlisle and Esme when I had the chance. "Emmett's back, but Rosalie's still out," I informed them. "He wants to talk to me. No, Esme, it's all right. He's calmed down."

They nodded, trying to hide their relief at having some time alone. Maybe it was better this way, actually. They always needed this respite together after a family blowout, and this way I could tell Emmett first. It would be the practice run, and he could tell Rosalie…

Rosalie! I still hadn't gotten the Jaguar back home. I would need to do that, before leaving. Maybe Emmett could come with me, right now. Depending on what mood he was in, I liked the idea of spending some time alone with my brother before leaving. I ran into the woods, finding him easily. His eyes were still dark, and he seemed sullen, though not angry anymore. He was worrying about Rosalie, who had insisted on being let off right in the middle of town.

"Thought you were going hunting," I said cautiously.

"Never got around to it. Uh… you wanna go together? Coolidge?"

"Absolutely." I could think of nothing I'd rather do right now- and I could go again with Esme later, if she still wanted to. Now that I knew this was my last day with my family, for now, I was feeling sentimental. After we hunted, I would offer another wrestling match, or some sort of game. Anything to cheer Emmett up- he was the real loser in this fight, though I doubted he would want to talk about it with me. And besides, he had always been there to put a smile on my face when I needed it. Or more accurately, he had always been there to punch a smile onto my face.

We ran in silence for a while, heading Northwest into deepest part of the Park. Emmett soon caught the scent of a pair of black bears, and sighed in relief. "You go ahead," I insisted. "I'll get something else. Back here when we're done?"

He nodded, eagerly shooting forward to attack. I continued on for a while, settling for a tasteless deer. Was this my last meal, before I put my plan into action? Part of me hoped not, but I reminded myself that the whole point was to deny myself every part of the pleasure of feeding. It was fitting that I stop this way. Still, if Esme and I came back out later, I'd get something else, just to please her. I fed standing up, refusing to descend into the frenzy. It was pretty easy; it was just deer, after all. I dropped the deer unceremoniously, digging a shallow grave with one hand and smiling ruefully. At least my fingernails would stay clean while I was away.

I returned to find Emmett strangely quiet, both in conversation and in mind. It seemed he felt guilty towards me, though I couldn't imagine why. _I _wasn't the one he had spent half the night yelling at. I approached him at a walk, my hands shoved in my pockets. I leaned back against a tree and waited for him to look up at me.

"So, Carlisle told you everything, then?" I asked quietly.

"Yup." _Interesting story._

"He meant well."

"I know…" _I know. __I'll apologize to him later. __I had to defend her, you know?_ _What hurts her hurts me._

I nodded, trying not to acknowledge the misery that his mind was going through. It was just as I had thought, last night: he kept replaying the moment when she had screamed at Carlisle that she hated this life. For once, I was glad I wasn't an empath. I hated to think how it _felt_ to hear your own wife say that, right in front of you. At least I knew how to cheer him up.

"Hey, Emmett. Wanna fight?"

He looked up with half a smile. "Don't much feel like it today." _Thanks, though. That was a good one the other day, wasn't it?_

I took a deep breath. "Yes… though I almost hurt you. I'm sorry about that."

He finally grinned. "Almost hurt _me_? In case you've forgotten, little brother, _you're_ the one who got his face beat into the dirt."

"Ah, yes. It's all coming back now." We laughed together at the memory. It wouldn't serve any purpose to tell him how close I had come to biting. And it would only hurt his pride to know that I had been holding back in any way.

I slid my back down the tree, sitting with my wrists balanced on my knees. I picked up a stick, and began peeling it, revealing the white layer underneath. I smiled as the memory of our reading lessons came back to me. Emmett had come so far since then; he would never devour books like I did, but his literacy had opened up a whole new world to him. And here he was, getting ready to attend college for the first time. It was his turn to make our parents proud for a while. "Emmett, I need to talk to you about something."

"All right, but me first."

"About Rosalie?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to tell you that I'm not mad. I mean, I understand that it wasn't your fault." _I guess I'm grateful, in a way. __That you gave Carlisle a reason to change her. __I know she's not happy that he did, but I am._

"I didn't ask Carlisle to change anyone, Emmett. You know I would never do that."

"I know. I would have, though, if I knew her. As a human, I mean." _I just wish I could say the same for her._

"Em…" I sighed, trying not to get angry again. It really _was_ good that I was leaving, seeing as how I still got angry every time I thought about Rosalie. "You know she didn't mean it, when she said she hated her life."

He snorted, sitting down and mirroring my posture. He even picked up a stick and started peeling it, as well. I conjured up a humorous image of us at our real human ages: forty-nine and thirty-five. No, that was too young. Seventy-five and sixty-one, and we were sitting on the porch of a general store, smoking our pipes and whittling wood as we talked about the good old days. I supposed that I would be the big brother, in that one.

_She meant it, all right. __You should have seen her._

"I did see her… Esme showed me. She was just angry, Emmett. And really hurt, to find that out. Especially the way that she did."

He glared up at me. "I _am_ mad at you for that part." _Maybe I WILL beat you to a broken pulp, after all._

I just smirked back at him; he wasn't really angry anymore. Though if he did want to take a swing at me later, I would oblige him. "Emmett, believe me, she's happier than she lets on. You have no idea how _different_ she was, before you came along."

That got his attention, though he chided himself for smiling about it. "Really? You two fought even worse back then?"

"Well… yesterday was the worse, I'd say. But she was a lot… I don't know, emptier back then. Sadder. Finding you was the best thing that ever happened to her." I thought, for a moment, about telling him about the whole George debacle- just to demonstrate how much she had needed him- but decided against it. I didn't know if she had ever told him about that, and I had put my foot in my mouth enough for one century. "Really, Emmett, this house was pretty awkward up until the day Carlisle changed you."

He snorted again, ripping an angry chunk out of his stick. "It's pretty awkward now, I'd say. It might take her a few weeks to get over this one. I bet she stays out every day, at least that long." _Why can't she just want me with her?_

"If I knew the answer to that, I'd write a book on women," I said grimly. "But anyway, she won't need to do that. I'm leaving tonight."

He looked up, frowning. "What do you mean, you're leaving? Where?"

"I'm going off on my own for a while," I said casually. "You know, like you and Rosalie did."

_Because of what happened?_

I shrugged. "It's as good a time as any, don't you think?"

Emmett held his stick up in front of his eyes, twirling it studiously. "You're not gonna… you know, do the human blood thing again?"

"Of course not!" I snapped, throwing my stick at his face. He caught it without looking, twirling it at a right angle with his own.

_That's good. __Um, Edward? __Can you keep a secret?_

"You know I always do." He gave me a look. "Okay, with the exception of yesterday. What is it?"

He said it in vampire speed, before I could snatch it out of his mind. "I had an accident while we were away."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, but nodded for him to go on.

"It was a old lady in our building. You know how some people smell better than others? Well, she was like that. Anyway, Rose and I were the only ones home when it happened. She had just fallen down the stairs, and busted open the side of her face, right as we were walking in the door to the stairwell. It happened so fast, her blood didn't even hit the ground."

"Wow. I mean, it's okay, Em. It happens. Remember when Esme had that thing in the Himalayas?"

He nodded, sharing my memory. It was back in '42, and we had been just coming down from the peak of Mt. Everest. Carlisle and Esme had gone off for some alone time and to hunt, and when they met up with us two days later, Esme was crying and hiding her eyes. It had been a mountain climber, a man who had been grossly unprepared in terms of equipment. Carlisle and Esme saw him falling, and Carlisle dashed forward to help, telling Esme to stay behind and hold her breath. But no sooner had he reached the man than Esme crashed into him, unable to stop herself. They hadn't hunted yet, and it could hardly be said that she killed him, considering the injuries he had sustained from his fall. Still, it was a difficult few weeks for our family after that. It was also the time when the three of us siblings had gotten along the best, as we all rallied around our grieving mother, and did our best to be kind to another, for her sake.

He shrugged. "I know. And after we, you know, took care of things, that was why we moved to that other apartment complex. And that was why we had to stay away for so long, because of my eyes." _I pretty much just sat at home, and we spent a lot of time out at Sterling Forest. __It was awful._

"Emmett, you could have come home! You know we would have understood."

"I know. But since we were already away, we wanted to just keep it to ourselves, and not worry anyone. And it always hits Carlisle so hard when one of us messes up, you know? Like he did it himself. "

I clenched my teeth, knowing that he was right. And though Carlisle had been careful not to think like that around me yesterday, I knew that this time was the worst. This time, the humans had seen it happen. My actions would reflect on him professionally, once the rumors made their way to his hospital. Dr. Cullen's son, causing a scene during surgery and nearly killing the patient. How much of the truth would make its way back to his ears, through the whispers of his colleagues? It made me sick.

Emmett saw my face change, and he mumbled an oath. "I didn't mean it like that, Eddie… I really didn't. What you… what happened to you wasn't even an accident. I mean, the guy's gonna make it, right?"

"I hope so."

"Anyway, do you think I should tell Carlisle about it? My accident, I mean?"

"I don't see the point. Especially not right now."

"Yeah, I guess not. Anyway, that's why we stayed away as long as we did. Rosalie wanted to come back earlier, even back before the money problems got really bad. She just missed everyone, but I wanted to wait for my eyes to turn back."

"Wait, she really wanted to come back? Before you two went into debt?"

"Of course she did! She never wanted to stay away that long. Anyway, that's the only reason I'm telling you about it now. I know you think she only came back because of the money thing, but she didn't." _I also wanted you to know that the money thing wasn't all her fault. __I couldn't work for like four months, because of my eyes. __That was when she tried to get that job at the body shop._" I just wanted you to know that some of the stuff you said about her wasn't true. Just setting the record straight, for when you two make up." _And you'd better apologize to her. __Profusely._

"I will," I said miserably. Now I felt like even more of a cad. Half of the things I had said- yelled- to her yesterday hadn't even been true! "Though I was planning on leaving before she got home tonight."

"You don't have to leave at _all_. She'll get over it eventually." _Come on, Edward. __Think about how Esme will feel if you disappear._

"I _am_ thinking about Esme!" I growled, taking a deep breath to calm myself. "I was thinking about travelling anyway, for a while now. I just wanted to wait until you two were home, so that she wouldn't be too upset."

"Liar. You were going to go to Yale this fall."

"I…" I glanced up at him sheepishly, caught in my lie. That hadn't exactly been my best performance. See, this was why I needed a practice run. "Well, what I meant was, I was going to do it eventually. I didn't know you were coming home this soon." That was better; quite believable now. He nodded suspiciously.

"So where are you going, then?"

"I thought I'd try living in London for a while, or maybe in one of the smaller towns around there. I'd like to get a job, like you did. Maybe something in, I don't know, banking or something."

"Banking."

"I don't know!" I growled. I hadn't exactly invented this part of the story yet. "Something that doesn't involve being outside. And definitely no blood."

"Probably a good idea," he laughed. "I'm glad you're coming to your senses. Vampires and hospitals don't mix."

"Right," I said dismally.

"I'm kidding, man. It was just a fluke. I mean, what did you expect, nosing around in an operating room?"

"I get the point, Emmett."

"I'm just saying, there's no use crying over spilled milk." _Or blood, ha!_ He cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing up to see if I was laughing along with him. I wasn't. _Oh, come on. __The guy didn't even die. __Say, you're not planning on staying away too long, are you?_

"No. A year, maybe."

"Well, that's good," he said, jumping up to his feet. "Because I still owe you a good pummeling. I'll let you off today, since you're leaving. But who am I supposed to wrestle, if you're not around?"

"Carlisle, I expect." I got up as well.

"You've got to be kidding. He hits like a girl!" His booming laugh echoed through the trees, and I sighed in contentment as we began the run home. I felt better, knowing that I was at least leaving him in good spirits… as good as could be. As we ran, both of us were thinking through some of the fun times we had had together, many of which had taken place during our world tour: the condor rodeo, our race to the top of Mount Everest, and then there was the tiger incident, back in India, which had _totally_ been Emmett's fault, because-

I stopped on a dime, sniffing the air. "What's that?" I wondered aloud.

Emmett stopped as well. _Vampire. __No one I know. __You?_

I shook my head, following the trail off to the south. I listened ahead, but heard nothing except a human man as the very edge of my range. He was in pursuit of a buck, and didn't seem to have heard anything unusual in the woods. I inhaled more deeply, distinguishing two distinct scents. I mentally flipped through all the nomads we had met on our travels, and a few extra scents that Carlisle had given me through his memories. It was no one that he had ever encountered, either.

"Two of them," Emmett said, before I could open my mouth. "And they were running _fast_."

I frowned. "How can you tell?"

He rolled his eyes. "Look at the footprints. They're so far apart that they had to have been going at, I dunno, at least a hundred miles an hour."

I hadn't even thought to look. Emmett pointed out a couple of them. Definitely two, and one had such a tiny foot that it had to be a female, or even a child. My instincts bristled at the thought: what if one of the nomads were an immortal child? We didn't want _that_ anywhere on our continent. And what was their hurry, whoever they were?

"Let's get home," I said.

"Yeah," Emmett said uncomfortably. "I think we'd better." _One of them must be a kid. __I thought that was illegal._

"It is," I said stiffly. "Although it could be a woman."

Emmett shook his head doubtfully. "Let's go."

We followed the trail, growing more anxious as it continued to lead us toward the direction of our home. In fact, their trail followed closely along the one that Emmett and I had left earlier this morning. This meant that the strangers were tracking us, but backwards, to where we had come from. I confirmed this theory as their scent grew stronger- more recent- the further east we got. I kept listening ahead as far as I could, hoping we would overtake them before they picked up the scents of our family. Why did Emmett and I have to come out here to hunt, of all places? We hardly ever came into Coolidge.

Emmett was speeding up, starting to worry about Rosalie. _They followed our trail back home, Edward._

"I know. Do you want me to go on ahead?"

"No, let's stay together, just in case there's a fight." He was picturing me sprinting home, and getting myself torn apart before he could catch up.

"Not likely," I snorted, keeping pace with him. "You know most nomads aren't aggressive."

"Yeah? Then why are they running towards our house at breakneck speed? And why are they purposely tracking where we came from, instead of where we were headed?"

"Less talking, more running, Em."

"Right." He surged up to his top speed, worrying again about whether Rosalie might have already gotten home. He wasn't sure which scenario to hope for; he hoped she was still out in case there was a confrontation, but on the other hand, having three at home would discourage there from even being one.

_-swam to France… school at night, when nobody…_

"It's all right," I said, signaling for Emmett to ease his pace. "Carlisle's telling his story to them. He sounds calm."

"Friendly, then," he mused. "Wonder where they're from." _And why they were so eager to find us._

"Well, if there's one thing we all have in common, it's our curiosity. They probably just found our scent, and wanted to say hello. Come on."

I was curious as well, and still a little uneasy. This was the first time that anyone other than the Denalis had actually visited us. It wasn't that we weren't welcoming; it was just that most of our friends weren't fond of committing to being anywhere at any given time. And we moved so often that Garrett had joked that we were more nomadic than _he_ was.

_Hi, Edward!__ … __me yet? I wasn't… so… name is…_

I stumbled over my feet, shocked as the unfamiliar voice pierced my mind. It was decidedly feminine, and energetic, in a sing-song kind of way.

"I'm hearing the female," I said, grimacing as she continued her mental salute an octave above what I was used to.

"And?"

"She's thinking at me." I still had no visuals, and she did sound friendly, but I was confused. This wasn't like Carlisle, to broadcast the truth about my gift so soon after meeting someone. Maybe they were friends of a friend, or something like that.

_I know you can hear me now, so tell Emmett I said hello!_

Well, _this _was different. "She says to tell you hello," I told Emmett, sharing his confused look.

"How does she even know you can hear her?"

"She couldn't know that. Maybe she's been saying the same thing for the past hour." We ran on and I grew uneasy again. She had specifically said "I know you can hear me now". What did that mean? Was the she gifted at sensing one's direction and proximity, like Demetri? But she hadn't ever met me before, so that didn't make any sense. I tensed for a moment, fearing that the male might be Demetri himself. But that wasn't right either; I knew Demetri's scent, and this wasn't it. And even as a burst of fear shot through me at the possibility of these being Volturi guards, I dismissed the idea. I highly doubted that the Guard ever _ran_ anywhere, or greeted their targets so cheerfully. And they certainly didn't go around barefoot.

A few seconds later, I could see them through Carlisle's eyes, and I could hear their minds; though at the moment, they were merely picturing the events that Carlisle was telling them about his life. The male had golden hair, a bit darker than Carlisle's, but it was much longer, coming down to almost sweep his shoulders. He seemed to be nineteen, or twenty perhaps, though his expression made me wonder if he was older. He was lean and well-dressed, though Carlisle wasn't looking at his feet, which I knew to be bare. He was seated on the couch in the living room, though he looked rather uncomfortable doing so; his back was ramrod-straight, his shoulders tense. He had the female tucked protectively under his arm. His mate, then.

Her appearance matched her voice: tiny, energetic, and light. She was no bigger than a pre-adolescent child, though she seemed fully mature. Even her hair looked energetic, sticking out from her head at all angles. Her face was just as small as Jane's, though much happier. She was wearing a light blue dress that sort of matched the male's shirt, though it was worn with age and use. She had her legs folded up underneath her as she snuggled up to her mate, listening in rapture to Carlisle's tale. She moved then, glancing up at the male with some fond expression, and her eyes-

"Her eyes!" I gasped. "She's a vegetarian!"

Emmett grinned. "No wonder Carlisle's so cheery. The male too?"

"I don't think so. Wait a minute." I waited impatiently for Carlisle to look at them again; he was sharing a loving glance with Esme as he told our visitors about their first meeting. I didn't recall being surprised about the male's eyes, but now I wasn't sure. Carlisle finally looked back at him.

"No, red. Well… mostly red."

"Huh. Wonder if they're friends with the Denalis?"

The male was glancing out the window now, his arm tightening around his mate slightly. All at once, his voice was in my head, strong and serious. _Edward. __I don't know if you can hear us yet, but don't be alarmed. __My name is Jasper, and my mate's name is Alice. W__e are not hostile. _He repeated the message again, moving his eyes back to Carlisle and nodding solemnly at something he had said.

"I have the male now," I told Emmett. "Their names are Jasper and Alice, and he's saying that they're not hostile."

Alice perked up, a beautiful smile lighting up her face. "They're almost home," she told everyone, picturing Emmett and I entering the house. She must have seen the pictures hanging in the hallway, to know what we looked like. Though as she pictured our return home, the image was fuzzy and bright around the edges, like a picture that was frayed from handling. She was picturing the door bursting open, and me practically falling in the room as Emmett shoved me inside. Then she turned to Jasper. "He heard you," she assured him, her golden eyes twinkling. He just nodded, unsurprised.

"Amazing," breathed Carlisle. "Simply amazing. Jasper, can you sense them yet with your gift?" Jasper shook his head.

I stopped running completely, my eyes wide.

"What?" Emmett growled, dancing to the side to avoid running into me.

"They're gifted," I said in awe. "I'm not sure of the specifics yet, but it's something like mine. The female's gift is stronger than the male's, I think."

"Hey, that's great!" Emmett laughed. "You'll all be able to stand there and think at each other. Come on, I want to meet them."

Not a bad idea. I concentrated, thinking back to them. _Alice, Jasper. __Can you hear me as well?_

Neither of them seemed to take any notice. No matter, though, we were already home. We ran into the yard and right up to the porch. I paused, realizing that Rosalie was home as well. Great.

Emmett reached around me to open the door, shoving me inside along with him. In fact, our entrance was an exact copy of the scene that the female nomad, Alice, had imagined twenty seconds ago… that was odd. Everyone was still in the living room: Carlisle and Esme seated in chairs pulled in from the dining room, and Rosalie standing beside Esme. Our newcomers were still on the couch, and the male was reminding himself to remain seated, so as not to appear hostile.

The female had no such reservations. She popped up off the couch, landing on her feet right in front of me. She was even shorter than I had expected, but it was still a shock. I jerked backwards a step, and her mate flew to her side, reaching for her shoulders and thinking about pulling her back. But she was too quick for him, springing up into _my_ arms and squeezing her face right into _my_ shoulder. I froze apprehensively as her arms went around my neck, but she didn't seem to be attacking… unless yelling in my ear at vampire speed could be considered an attack.

"Hello, Edward! I'm Alice! Well, you already knew that, because we told you. It's so good to see you, in person I mean! Oh, isn't it wonderful?!"

Her mate- Jasper- just looked on, understandably uncomfortable with our closeness. I gently peeled Alice's arms away from my neck, setting her down onto her feet. But she bounced up toward Emmett this time, and he laughed as she hugged him, as well. His huge arms went around her in acceptance, and the top half of her disappeared from view. Jasper swallowed, thinking how Emmett could snap Alice like a twig. Rosalie tensed as well, but didn't protest.

"Sorry," Jasper said to both Emmett and I. "She gets like this sometimes. She's harmless, though." His voice was tinged with a Southern accent, more so than his thoughts had been.

"I doubt _that_," I replied, smiling to show my lack of offense. Everyone laughed, and even Jasper cracked a smile. His shoulders finally relaxed a bit, and he took a breath. I realized that until now, he hadn't been breathing at _all_. He must have been nervous before, to find himself among such a large coven.

Emmett set Alice down, and we all laughed again when we saw them standing side by side. Even Rosalie thought it was funny: the biggest vampire she had ever met, right beside the smallest. In fact, she was laughing almost like she was drunk. I watched her mind curiously, but I saw nothing unusual. She caught my gaze, greeting me mentally. _Don't worry_, she thought. _I'm not mad anymore. __And I'm sorry I hit you._

I nodded, trying not to show my confusion. How could she have possibly gotten over our fight already? I supposed that our visitors had distracted her. It was odd, though. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen her this relaxed. _I'm sorry too_, I mouthed to her. She just shrugged, turning her attention back to the newcomers.

Who was this girl, and what had she done with my sister?

But there was no time to worry about Rosalie; Alice was back in my face again. Or rather, my chest. She was _tiny._ Not quite as tiny as Jane, but that was hardly a comparison worth making. "Edward Cullen," I said, nodding politely down to her and over at her mate. "And my brother Emmett."

"I'm Jasper Whitlock," Jasper said. "And this is Alice."

"Just Alice?" Emmett asked in amusement. _She's so little she doesn't even get a last name! __Ha ha!_

"Just Alice," she sang, dancing back to her mate's side. _I was hoping you could help me with that, actually_, _Edward._

"How so?" I asked, still confused. She was speaking mentally to me with ease, like she had been doing it for years. I tried communicating with her again, in the same way. _Can you hear this? Are you a telepath as well?_

She didn't seem to hear my silent question; at least I didn't hear it echo in her mind. _I know you can read my mind. __I thought maybe you could help me learn about my past. __I don't have any human memories at all, so I thought maybe you could, you know, dig around and find them._

"It doesn't work like that," I said apologetically, and she pouted, looking like a five-year-old. I opened my mouth to ask if she was a telepath, as well, but now my words echoed in her mind _before_ I said them.

"Nope, guess again!" she said happily, and I blinked. What…?

"Would somebody please tell the rest of us what's going on?" Rosalie demanded.

"Edward's trying to guess my gift," Alice announced. "He thought I was a telepath at first."

_She has visions of the future_, Rosalie thought, just to get the conversation moving.

"Visions of the future?" I echoed in disbelief, and Alice pouted again.

"Right," she said, "though I know you didn't figure it out on your own!"

"I'm still confused, Alice," Carlisle said. "If you don't hear thoughts, how did you know that someone told Edward silently?"

"Because it was going to take him another forty seconds. So when he got it sooner, I knew someone had helped him, though I don't know who."

Jasper cocked his head to the side. "Forty seconds? I've never heard your predictions be so precise before."

"That's because I've never had a clock to look at before!" she replied, pointing to the grandfather clock on the wall behind Esme. "This is going to be so much _fun_! See if you can guess Jasper's gift, Emmett!"

Emmett just wrinkled his forehead, glancing back and forth between me and our visitors. _Are you as confused as I am?_

"Definitely."

I saw a flash in Jasper's mind, just like I had seen in Alice's earlier, and like I frequently saw in Eleazar's, when he was using his gift. Jasper looked over to me. _You're feeling curious_, he hinted, _and now you're feeling excited. _I grinned back at him. I _was_ excited. I had always wanted to meet an empath! I almost shouted the answer to Emmett, but Alice stopped me.

"Don't, Edward!" she hissed.

"But he got it first," Jasper protested.

"Only because you helped me cheat," I admitted.

Esme held her head in her hands. "What are you three _talking_ about?" she moaned.

"It's like having three Edwards," Rosalie growled. "He's an empath, Emmett!"

"Time!" Carlisle called, laughing as he held up his hands. "I think we're all getting a bit confused. Jasper, why don't you and Alice tell your stories, like you did earlier?"

They agreed, and Jasper started first. He was older than any of us, it turned out, save Carlisle. When he got to the part about being in the Southern Wars, he kept his mind carefully blank of any visuals. _I don't like to remember that part_, he explained mentally. I nodded my understanding, and he went on. When he got near the end of his tale, Alice burst in to begin her own. I held up my hand soon after she began.

"I can help you with one thing," I told her, looking at her memory of when she woke up. "It looks like you were wearing a hospital gown when you were changed."

"That doesn't mean much," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "You were wearing one as well, Edward."

"I was?"

He nodded. "Perhaps whoever changed her found her dying in a hospital, like I found you."

"Then why would they just leave her alone like that?" I wondered. What an awful thing to do!

"Let's move on," Esme suggested. "Tell them about your visions, Alice, those first ones. I'm sure Edward will be curious to see them."

Alice smiled, eagerly showing me what she had seen, and continued with her story. It seemed that Alice had known about our family for years, and had been _watching_ us for years. The idea was rather unnerving.

"How much, exactly, have you been watching us?" I asked uncomfortably.

She smiled sadly at me. _If you're wondering about your years away, yes, I saw all that._ _And I have a pretty good idea of what happened the other day, too. _My whole body stiffened in shame and anger, and Jasper put a warning hand on Alice's arm. _Sorry_, she added, _but don't worry about it. __I love you anyway. __And we all have things we'd rather keep to ourselves, but gifts like ours don't always allow everyone their privacy. __You of all people should understand that!_

"Be that as it may," I said stiffly, "I hardly think you needed to watch all that, when we couldn't-"

"Oh, come on, Edward!" Alice said impatiently. "Don't pretend you don't understand! You carry the 'burden of invasion into sacred, hidden places of the heart', just the same as I do." She waved her fingers in the air as she quoted my-

I jumped to my feet, enraged. "You've been reading my _journal_?!" I snarled.

Jasper jumped up as well, baring his teeth and throwing himself in front of his mate protectively. There was a bright flash from his mind; his gift processing my sudden anger, no doubt. But oddly enough, I felt suddenly calmer. It really wasn't that big of a deal that she had seen my journal, was it? Wait…

"Not on purpose!" Alice squeaked from behind Jasper. "I just had a habit of checking on you all to see what you were up to. It was just that sometimes, when I checked, you happened to be sitting at your desk, writing. It's not _my_ fault I have vampire vision, and can remember everything I see for eternity!"

I held up my hands peaceably. "No… no, it's all right, Alice. I understand. And you're absolutely right, I…" Why had I gotten so angry? "Never mind, please continue," I said sheepishly, and sat back down. Jasper watched me intently for a moment, before taking his own seat.

_She didn't mean any harm_, he told me. _And I understand the burden you spoke of, as well. __But watch yourself. __I will defend her if necessary, and you will lose._ I finally saw the memories he had been hiding earlier; I saw a vicious battle between himself and two other vampires, and I watch in awe as he destroyed his opponents, tearing them limb from limb. I flinched as he imagined doing the same to me, if I threatened Alice again.

"That wasn't necessary," I muttered. "And I wasn't threatening your mate."

_Felt like it to me._

"Is there a problem?" Carlisle asked quietly. Jasper and I shook our heads, eyeing each other warily, and Alice continued her tale. She told us about the day she had found Jasper, and about their travels together since then.

"And here we are!" she said in conclusion.

"Here you are!" Emmett laughed. "What a tale! I want to hear more about those Wars, Jasper."

"Judging by your excitement, Emmett," Jasper said in a low voice, "I'm guessing that you haven't felt a vampire's bite yourself. And I'm not speaking of the bite of transformation."

"Nope," Emmett admitted with another laugh. "But Edward has! Tell him, brother!" Jasper turned to me with interest, but Alice was already picturing what had happened, in perfect detail; she must have been paying attention that day.

"It was the day Emmett woke up," I told Jasper. "He scented a human, and we were trying to stop him. Didn't work, though."

"I imagine not," Jasper said with a smirk, thinking about Emmett's obvious strength. _I can't even fathom how strong he was as a newborn._

"You have no idea," I replied. "Long story short, I lost a hand and got bitten."

"Still has the scar, too," Emmett said triumphantly. "What about you, Jasper? Got any battle scars?"

"Emmett," Esme scolded. "Don't be rude."

Jasper was struggling to control his thoughts, trying to hide his violent memories. I supposed that I would too, if it had been me. "It's all right," he told Esme. He swept his hair aside, revealing an ugly, jagged scar which curled halfway around his neck.

"_That_ had to hurt," Emmett said approvingly. _I can't wait to spar with this guy. __He must know all kinds of moves._

"You should have seen the other vampire," Jasper murmured, and I flinched again as I saw the outcome of _that _particular fight.

"I didn't know it was even _possible_ to tear a vampire in half with one hand," I said in awe.

"Can we talk about something else?" Esme asked quietly. _The poor boy. __I never realized how lucky we all were to have Carlisle be the one who changed us. __I always thought of the Wars as so far away. __But I wonder how many of our kind are still trapped in that life?_

"Okay!" Alice squealed, popping up out of the couch. "Who's ready to go shopping?!"

"Shopping?" I asked in amusement. Carlisle was grinning and shaking his head in confusion as he watched the women fly upstairs.

_I think this was exactly what our family needed this week_, he thought. _It seems like Edward's doing much better. __And Rosalie! __What a difference. __Maybe having a sister will be good for her._

He was right. Now that I thought about it, I hadn't noticed Rosalie having any hostile thoughts toward me this afternoon, or even toward Carlisle. And I knew for a fact she had still been angry at both of us when she left this morning. Her sudden change of heart was peculiar, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. One thing was certain, though. I would need to delay my departure for as long as our visitors were here. They seemed friendly enough, but I wasn't about to leave my family unprotected. My mind-reading would be especially important in the coming days.

Alice was convinced that she was settling in for life, but Jasper seemed a bit more realistic; he was just grateful that their "initial encounter" had gone so smoothly. And they were both so _strange_… I was glad now that I hadn't gotten a chance to tell my parents about my plans. And leaving immediately wasn't really necessary, now that Rosalie had suddenly decided to become the forgiving type. It was just so _odd…_

"I think we had better make ourselves scarce," Carlisle told Jasper, Emmett, and I, "unless we want to get roped into going with them."

"Let's show Jasper around," Emmett suggested, standing up. "You like bears?"

Jasper shrugged. "All animals taste the same to me." _Awful._

"It'll get better," Carlisle promised.

The women came back down, Alice giggling as she wobbled down the stairs wearing Esme's high heels. "We had to stuff some paper into the toes," Esme explained. "Our first stop is the shoe store!" Both she and Rosalie were bursting with ideas of what they could get for their new life-size doll.

_I don't like this_, Jasper thought anxiously. _We've barely met these people, and now they're putting her in a car and taking her where I can't go._

"Can't go?" I asked.

Jasper glanced over to Carlisle, hesitant to admit the truth aloud. _I can't be around humans_, he told me silently. _It was fine back when I was hunting them, but I've lost all self-control now._

"I understand," I said sympathetically. "Don't worry, she's in good hands. But don't expect them back before the stores close!"

He frowned. "Why? How long can it possibly take to buy some clothes?"

Emmett and I laughed, following Carlisle into the garage, where we kept our "hunting" shoes. Jasper obviously had a lot to learn about-

My smile faded and I stuck my head back through the kitchen door to shout at whoever was listening. "WOULD ANYBODY MIND TELLING ME WHY MY STUFF IS IN THE GARAGE?!"

* * *

**I hope you liked it! And don't worry, the next chapter will continue right where this leaves off. It was just getting so LONG, and after all that angst recently, I wanted to end it on a funny note :) **


	10. Male Bonding

**I'm so glad you all liked the arrival chapter (and its outtake). You guys are the best! And I want to offer a big thank you to everyone who has been brainstorming with me regarding this part of the story: abishop47, Rachel, EmeraldStar73, Camilla10, Strawberry4evr, zveka... I'm sure I'm forgetting some but thank you!**

**A couple of notes about Jasper: **

**-I'm going to be handling the "mechanics" of his gift differently than I did in Restraining Order. In that story, he "saw" emotions in terms of colored auras (at least, that was how Edward perceived it). But now that I "know" Jasper better, I'm going to keep his gift a bit more instinctual, having him just feel the emotions around him. The offensive part of his gift will be the same, with no visual description and very little that Edward can actually observe in Jasper's thoughts. This is how Jasper is able to continue hiding the fact that his gift has an offensive component. He's not being malicious, or lying, per se... he just feels that it's not a wise tactic to reveal his whole hand at first. I'm not making him the skittish, abused child that a lot of authors make him, but it'll be a little while before he can fully relax around his new "family".**

**-During this chapter here, he is emitting calm and peace at all times, though it's more instinctive than purposeful, and that's why Edward's not catching it. Jasper's not actually thinking "I must keep everyone calm", it's just something he's always done when in a situation where he feels uncertain/threatened. (Sorry, I know this was a bit of a spoiler but there was no way for me to put this into Edward's narrative) Anyway, he won't continue the "deception" for long. **

**At any rate, the plot will be slowing down a bit here, as we get into some of the more fun/fluffy parts of the story. Let me know if there's any particular conversation/event you'd like to see! As always, I love accommodating requests, as long as they go along with what I have planned. This story is going to be LONG and I have a lot of room for ideas.**

* * *

"You're angry," Jasper said stiffly, backing away from where I stood on the garage steps. "We meant no offense. Alice saw that you wouldn't mind, but her visions aren't always fulfilled. We'll just use a different room, or stay outside." His mind was flashing with wordless activity; he must be processing my anger. My muscles relaxed and I held up my hands peaceably.

"No, it's all right," I said quickly. "I'm not angry, I'm just…" I paused, taking account of myself. Why did I have to fly off the handle again? It was just a room, for heaven's sake, and these were our guests. "I was just surprised," I continued in a calmer voice.

"I'm sorry, Edward," Carlisle said, walking back toward us. "Alice really thought you wouldn't mind. We can work something else out."

"No, they should keep the room," I insisted. "There's two of them, and only one of me. I'll move my things into that spare room beside yours."

"Might as well just leave it in here," Emmett said. "After all, you-"

"Emmett!" I hissed, shaking my head in warning.

_What? I thought you were leaving. Didn't you tell Carlisle?_

"What's wrong?" Carlisle asked, looking at Emmett, who was looking at me.

"I meant he might as well just leave in here, since Esme will probably just build onto the house before long," he said, recovering himself.

"Oh," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "That's true. Jasper, you may have just given my wife the best gift ever! She _loves_ having a reason to work on the house."

"I… you're welcome," Jasper said slowly, and the rest of us laughed. Carlisle caught my eye again.

_Are you sure, about the room? Esme can just as easily build one for them._

I nodded, and Carlisle kicked off his shoes, stepping into his hunting ones. Emmett and I were already in ours from our trip out this morning.

"You have special shoes for feeding?" Jasper asked, thinking about his own bare feet.

"They're more like outdoor shoes," Emmett said with a shrug. "For hunting, yard work, stuff like that. Esme would take our arms off if we tracked dirt onto that new carpet!"

Jasper stiffened again, if he had really relaxed at all. "She would?" _I can't see her doing that. And how would she-_

Emmett howled with laughter. "No!" _That's hilarious! This guy is going to be so much fun. I wonder if I could trick him into-_

"Emmett," I sighed. "Behave yourself. Not every vampire is used to our human ways, or our human way of saying things. Don't you remember what happened with that coven in Russia?"

"Why, what happened in Russia?" Jasper asked.

"Emmett is a bit of a prankster," Carlisle explained with a grin as he led us outside. "And he got himself into quite a situation back in '43. We were traveling through the world at the time, and we occasionally ran into old friends or strangers… our kind, I mean. When we were up in northern Russia, we ran into a mated pair of nomads, and Emmett challenged the male to a fight."

"I didn't mean to the _death_," Emmett interrupted, "but they sort of took it that way. Anyway, turns out his mate was talented. One flick of her gift and I was on my back."

"You should have seen his face," I laughed, remembering. "Her gift was a forward shield that she could extend twenty feet or so. He couldn't even get up until she let him. It took Carlisle a good ten minutes to convince her that Emmett hadn't been trying to kill her mate."

_I fought a shield like that once_, Jasper thought. I saw yet another battle scene begin to play out in his memory. He was fighting what looked like a fifteen-year-old girl, dancing away every time she looked at him. He finally managed to flank her, opening his mouth and roaring in triumph as he shoved her forward onto the ground, tearing her head off with a single jerk of his teeth. I gasped in surprise, taken aback by his ferocity.

Jasper's eyes flicked back to me, and his mind scrambled for something else to think about_._

"Don't worry about it," I assured him. "I'm not going to judge you for your past. We've all done things we're not proud of."

Jasper nodded, but was already distracted. We were almost to the edge of the woods now, and he was watching the car as Esme backed it down the driveway. He could see Alice in the back seat, where she was blowing him a kiss. He swallowed, wondering when she would return, and whether she would be all right around so many humans.

"She'll be fine," I assured him again. "She was just telling Esme how good her control is. And she's thinking about you constantly, anyway."

"Esme?"

"No, Alice. She's checking your future and-" I turned my head toward the car, hearing my name being called in Alice's shrill mental voice.

_And tell him he'll be fine! You'll keep an ear out for humans, won't you Edward? He needs to stay at least two miles away._

"-and she says to tell you that you'll be fine," I relayed, giving Alice a nod and a wave.

Jasper frowned, uncomfortable with the idea of me hearing his mate's thoughts. _This is going to take some getting used to._

"Yes, it is," I said. I was secretly relieved to get away from Alice's mind for a while. She had been so focused on the immediate future throughout the afternoon that I had been hearing an echo of everything that everyone said right before they said it. That, in combination with the echo of the thoughts that everyone had before speaking, was making my head ache. I hoped she wasn't always this… attentive. Hearing her excitable voice in my head was challenging enough.

"Edward, are you thirsty?" Carlisle asked. "I thought you hunted with Emmett this morning."

I realized, then, that my hand had been rubbing my throat. "No, I'm not," I said in confusion, noting that the thirst had that phantom feel to it. "Jasper, are you?"

"Always," he admitted. Sure enough, his eyes had darkened a couple of shades since I had come home. "Does your gift… relay that?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I don't usually notice my family's thirst because they never let it go too long, but it was especially difficult when Emmett was a newborn. When did you hunt last?"

"This morning," Jasper said, glancing apprehensively toward Carlisle. "I need to hunt twice a day, usually. But it's all right- I can go later with Alice, if none of you are interested right now."

"_I'm_ interested in you feeding," I said, rubbing my throat again. "Let's go."

We started to run, Jasper and I lagging behind Carlisle and Emmett. "You physically feel my thirst?" Jasper asked. "In your throat?"

I nodded. "My gift automatically blocks most physical sensations coming from others… pain, especially. I didn't have any trouble while any of the others were in transition. But thirst is different, I suppose. Anyway, it's not quite as bad as my own thirst, and I can usually tell the difference."

"I'm sorry," Jasper said politely. "I'll try to feed as often as I can."

"I'll get used to it," I shrugged. "What about your gift? Do you feel it, when Alice gets thirsty?"

"Not physically. But I do feel the emotions that thirst brings on, so she tries to feed pretty often. She always stays with me when I hunt, anyway, to keep an eye on the future… you know, in case of humans."

"She was just telling me about that, before she left. She wants me to keep an ear out, for your sake."

"What's your range?"

"I have a three mile radius, give or take," I explained. "Though that's only when I'm trying, which I am right now. I'll let you know if I hear anyone around."

Jasper dipped his head in gratitude- a comical gesture, consider we were running.

"What about you?" I asked. "What's your range?"

He nodded forward, to where Carlisle and Emmett were running. They were about one hundred feet ahead of us. "Not much more than that." _I can tell that Carlisle is nervous._ _Can't say that I blame him, of course. Alice almost jumped on HIM when we first got here. And meeting strangers is always difficult._

"No, it's not that at all. He's worried about there being any humans around, for your sake. That's why he's staying so close." Carlisle was also wondering whether he should suggest doing some blood challenges with Jasper. But that seemed to be a bit much for the first day, so I kept that part to myself. "I'm curious about something," I said aloud. "You mentioned that Alice's visions aren't always accurate? How does that work?"

"It's complicated- you'd get a better explanation from her. Her visions are always accurate, but they're not always fulfilled. Generally, her visions are based on decisions. A future is only created when someone decides their course about something, so if they change their mind, a new future is created, and her vision changes accordingly."

"That doesn't make sense," I said with a frown. "She said that she saw you, and all of us, when she woke up. She hadn't made any decisions about meeting any of us, or you, at the time, had she? And Carlisle certainly hadn't decided yet to change the others into vampires."

He shrugged. "Like I said, it's complicated." _All I know is, her gift brought us together. That's enough for me._

"And it brought you two here, as well," I added, hoping to get him thinking about it. Did he share his mate's "vision" of joining our family forever? And why had they decided to come just now? Had Alice seen me leaving tonight? But Jasper's mind was a steel trap; he was learning quickly how to block me out. I tried again. "I'm curious… what brought you here? Just now, I mean? Why not right away, when you first met Alice? Why not fifty years from now?"

Jasper locked down on his thoughts even harder, filling his mind with Alice. "We had always intended to come. It's just that… we wanted some time alone together first." I groaned as the images shifted to things I _definitely_ didn't want to see. Just what I needed; another happily mated couple. Just _great._

Jasper suddenly realized what he was thinking about and snapped his gaze over to me angrily. "That wasn't for you to see," he said coldly. "_Ever."_

"Believe me, I wish I could turn it off," I sighed. "And I'm sorry, Jasper, but I can't. I do my best to distract myself, or leave, when the situation calls for it. But I can't _not_ see what you're showing me. especially when you're this close. So it's really up to you to keep it under wraps, or at least give me fair warning when you two-"

"I get it," he interrupted. "And I can tell that you're being honest." _That's DEFINITELY going to take some getting used to._ _How can he stand living in the same house as two mated couples, one of whom he considers his parents?_

"Like you said, it takes some getting used to," I muttered. _And it just got harder_, I added to myself. At least I could tell already that Alice and Jasper were nowhere near as physical as my siblings were. And from the way Jasper had recoiled a moment ago, it looked like he wasn't going to be nearly as carefree as Emmett in thinking about his mate in front of me.

Thank _God._

Carlisle and Emmett had stopped running, and we soon caught up to them. "There's a black bear off to the northeast, Jasper," Carlisle said, pointing into another part of the woods. "It's all yours."

Jasper sniffed the air, guessing that the bear was nearly a mile off. He hesitated, wondering if he should get that far away from me, since it would take him closer to the edge of my "lookout" range. He wanted to ask me to come with him, but he was unsure whether I would just end up fighting him for his prey.

"I'll come, if you like," I offered. "And I'll give you some space, when we get there."

"I'll come too," Emmett added.

"There's only one bear, Emmett, and it's not for you," I teased, but he came along anyway. Carlisle said that he wanted to get some paperwork done before heading into work, and went back toward the house.

Emmett and I hung back when we sighted the bear, and Jasper ran on ahead. He simply walked up to the bear, crushed its skull with his hand, and began drinking.

Emmett turned to me in disbelief. _Um, why is he drinking standing up?_ I held my finger to my lips, not wanting him to annoy Jasper when he was vulnerable like this. Just because we wouldn't have fought him during the hunt, didn't mean that Jasper wouldn't attack us if he thought we were . But a quick check into his mind told me that he was simply drinking without descending into the frenzy, like I had with the deer this morning. I was impressed; I didn't think I'd be able to do that with bear blood.

"It's called dining with style," I said with a smirk. "I do it all the time." Since today, anyway.

"You do not."

"Do too."

"Do _not."_

I shoved him playfully, and he tumbled into a tree with a _crack_ just as Jasper finished feeding. He tensed, watching Emmett warily as he extricated himself from the shattered tree.

"It's all right," I told him. "We're just playing ar-" Emmett crashed into me, head down like a bull, and we skidded a good twenty feet before we stopped. "-round," I growled, shoving him off me. I stood and twisted my head back, scowling at the huge smear of mud and leaves running down my back.

"Edward's sort of a girl sometimes about getting dirty," Emmett explained cheerfully. "But what's the matter with you, Jasper? You call that hunting?"

"No," Jasper replied with a frown, stooping down to dig a grave for his kill. "I call it feeding."

"Well, that's your problem! You just passed up a golden opportunity for a good fight. I mean, granted, black bears are pretty small and tame, but once you get 'em riled up, they're plenty of fun!"

Jasper looked shocked. "You torture _animals_?" he asked. _I wouldn't have thought the Cullens would go for that kind of thing._

"No, we don't _hurt_ them," Emmett replied. "I mean, not on purpose. And we kill them quickly, same as you just did. But the predators enjoy a good scuffle just as much as we do. I figure if they've gotta go down, they might as well go down having fun. I tried it with a deer once, but it just had a heart attack and died right there."

Jasper finished digging and stood up fully, kicking the bear down into the hole and following it with the dirt he had unearthed. "What's the point of fighting an animal?"

"It's _fun_."

"I don't see how. It's not like there would be any challenge."

Emmett grinned, showing his teeth. "So, what you're saying is, you're looking for a _challenge_?" He sank slowly down into an attack crouch, waggling his eyebrows in invitation.

Jasper froze, unsure of what to think. I just closed my eyes in exasperation. "Emmett…"

Emmett rolled his eyes. "For _fun,_ Jasper. Come on."

"Some other time, perhaps." _I would hardly call fighting 'fun'._

"Suit yourself." He pounced, but not at Jasper. I was prepared this time, and I swept around his attack, grabbing his feet as he flew past me and throwing him into a spin. I had my teeth on his throat before he even hit the ground.

"You're right, that _was_ fun," I said, standing back up and winking over to Jasper. He was just staring at me, marveling at my speed.

"You don't bite each other at all?" Jasper asked in awe.

"Of course not," I replied in confusion. "We're family. We would never hurt each other on purpose. The match ends when you touch your teeth to your opponent's throat."

Emmett sprung back onto his feet. "Oh sure, embarrass me in front of the new brother. See Jasper, this is why I need lessons from a real fighter like you, so I can beat this cheater once in a while."

"Cheater?"

I tapped the side of my head. "Can't turn it off, remember? I see his moves before he makes them."

Emmett dusted off his pants. "No, you just hear me thinking about them before I make them. _Alice_ would be able to see them before I made him. Ha! Maybe _she'd_ be willing to give it a go, if Jasper won't."

Jasper finally came to life. "Maybe I _will_ teach you a lesson," he growled, crouching down for the attack. His handsome face twisted into a terrifying mask of battle rage, and he gathered for the spring. I stepped forward in alarm, but he winked at me. _Don't worry, I could tell he was kidding. I won't hurt him, I promise._

"I get winner," I said, backing away again.

"No dismemberments," Emmett muttered, and attacked. Jasper ducked under Emmett's grasping hands and shot back into standing, heaving him a good fifty feet into the air. He jumped to meet him in his descent, and they crashed down together in a snarling mass of knees and fists. Jasper soon got in a kick to Emmett's throat, and followed his foot immediately with his teeth.

"Four seconds," I announced. "I don't know, Emmett, maybe you _should_ try going against Alice!"

"That was awesome," Emmett sighed, staying on his back. "Jasper, I want you to show me that kick-bite move again."

"In a minute," I protested. "My turn, remember?" Jasper turned to me, and we both sank to the ground before shooting forward into each other. Jasper's thoughts contained layer up layer of strategy, and I almost couldn't keep up. But I saw him dive for my feet just in time, and jumped, kicking down into his back just before he twisted back up to land a punch to the back of my left knee. My leg collapsed, but I saw his plan to circle back around toward my throat as I landed, and I blocked his face with my elbow. I drove my elbow home with my other hand, and he flew backwards away from me, waiting for my next move. He was trying not to plan ahead, but he was so used to fighting with strategy, that he simply couldn't do it. He was also consciously holding back, constantly reminding himself not to really hurt me. I hated to think how I would have fared if he was _really_ fighting.

I rushed him, and he decided to take me with a spin and throw me off to the right. So I hit him with a spin in the opposite direction, and he stumbled just long enough for me to jump onto his back. He threw himself down head-first, trying to dislodge me. I grabbed onto his shirt as he flipped me, and the fabric tore off in my hands as I fell. But I landed on his chest and got my teeth into his throat, anyway.

"Not bad, not bad," Emmett called, clapping slowly. "I thought he almost had you for a…" he trailed off, staring at Jasper in shock. I backed away as well, my instincts screaming.

I had torn his shirt completely away, and we could see now why he had been wearing long sleeves. His arms and upper torso were _covered_ in battle scars. There had to be literally hundreds of bite marks criss-crossing each other, and there were several chunks of skin missing around the backs of his shoulders, and at the base of his throat. The jagged line he had shown us on his neck earlier was actually one of three, and there were similar lines circling halfway around his wrists, elbows and left shoulder.

Emmett gave a low whistle. "You really _have_ seen some action, haven't you?"

Jasper shrugged. "Never lost a fight," he said simply.

I was still in shock. "Jasper, when you said you were in the Wars for a 'while'…"

He answered slowly, watching my eyes as he spoke. "Eighty years or so. Though a good half of these scars happened during training, not combat. I was a soldier, but my main task was to train the newborns as they came in. But newborns can be a little feisty, as you know." I touched the wrist of my right hand, glancing down at the now-invisible line, and feeling like an idiot.

"Did you ever lose your head?" Emmett asked in awe, eyeing the bigger scars.

"No. It was close a few times, as you can see." Then he held up his left arm, tracing the scars around his shoulder. "But I lost limbs, or parts of limbs, pretty often. A scar is laid down only where the venom touches, though. Most of my wounds aren't visible at all. The worst was when I was set upon by three opponents, during the battle for Monterrey. They just about tore me in half, working together, and my side cracked open by a good six inches." He slid his finger over the skin in question, dotted only by bite marks now. "Nothing to show for it now."

Emmett and I walked around him, taking it all in. I felt like a schoolboy who had just met a real soldier for the first time. Jasper didn't seem to mind, though; it made me wonder why he had bothered to hide them in the first place. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to worry Esme.

Emmett was duly impressed as well. _Amazing. And yet you beat him!_

"He was holding back," I admitted. "Jasper, I take it that the sparring you've done in the past followed different rules?"

"It followed _no_ rules. Except that we didn't burn in training, of course."

"Of course," I said nervously.

"You did well, Edward," Jasper said with a nod. "Your gift gives you an interesting advantage. I've never fought a telepath before. And Emmett, that's a nasty right hook you've got."

"Thanks… I think," Emmett replied. "Now, how about that kick-bite?"

Jasper showed us the move in slow-motion, and gave Emmett a chance to try it on him. Only Emmett's kick was far too powerful, sending Jasper flying backwards through the trees.

"I suppose that's one way to do it," Jasper chuckled as he came back. "Except that your opponent is free to attack you again. Want to try again?"

We spent the next couple of hours sparring, and Jasper showed us several other moves, all of which he had special names for. As we went on, Jasper grew more relaxed around us, and became more free with his conversation, as well as his thoughts. When the sun had set, we made our way back to the house, and Jasper was hoping that Alice would already be home.

"I doubt it," I snorted. "If she's anything like Rosalie, shopping is about to become a major part of her life."

"Not my Alice," Jasper said confidently. "She's a practical woman."

"I bet she comes home with at least ten bags," Emmett mused.

"Two," Jasper insisted. "One for me, one for her."

"You're forgetting shoes," I put in. "Five, at least."

"Why don't we make a little wager?" Emmett offered. "Ten or more, I win, five to nine you win, four or less Jasper wins."

"I don't have any money," Jasper pointed out.

Emmett laughed. "No problem. The losers have to paint the new room that Esme's going to build."

Jasper shrugged. "That doesn't seem so bad. It would only take a few minutes." _I don't see the point of painting it anyway. Who's going to see it?_

"It isn't the time involved that makes this a good bet," Emmett argued with an evil smile. "Have you _smelled _fresh paint since becoming a vampire?"

Jasper grimaced. "No, but I see your point. All right, I'm in. Edward?"

I nodded. "You got it. I'll be more than happy to let you two paint my new room for me. Light blue, please, and some crown molding would be nice."

"I'll be happy to paint _you_ light blue," Emmett muttered under his breath. Jasper grinned, the first real smile I had seen from him. It made him look younger; boyish, almost. And of course he shared the unearthly beauty common to our kind.

_They can actually have fun together_, he thought. _Amazing._

He seemed to be genuinely surprised. What kind of life had our new brother had, to make him so scarred in so many ways? The easy rapport that Emmett and I shared was completely foreign to him. He kept muttering to himself, mentally, about all the strange emotions that we were letting off. Love. Humor. Feelings of trust, safety… warmth. He was walking physically closer to us now and taking in our emotions eagerly, like a homeless man drawing near to a fire.

"I'm trying to figure out how your gift works, Jasper," I said aloud. "It seems like you're _inhaling_ our emotions, almost."

Jasper's mind seized for a moment, and then he relaxed. _Forgive me. I'm not used to being... analyzed like this._ "You're right," he said aloud. "I think that's as good an analogy as any. Emotions are like air to me. I'm surrounded by them, breathing them in, so to speak. I don't just observe the emotions of those around me, Edward. I _feel_ them. The positive ones, and the negative ones. I can usually separate my own out, but I'm not immune to the effects of what I'm taking in."

Emmett frowned. "So, back when you were in the Wars…"

"It was a difficult environment, for any of us. But for me…. well, let's just say I was incredibly relieved to make my escape. I travelled with the mated pair that I told you about earlier- Peter and Charlotte- for a while, but then I went off alone. I suppose after so many years of living in a cloud of emotions, I wanted some… peace, as it were."

"I can understand that," I said. "I frequently need some space from my family, even though I love them. Sometimes I just need _silence_." Jasper nodded in understanding.

"But," he continued, "that still wasn't enough. I still had to feed, and I was still suffering the emotions of my human victims. In fact, they bothered me more, once I was alone. There was so much emotional silence, that their fear and horror hit me that much harder. I tried to feed less often, but I was only ever able to go three days. I was… depressed, I suppose."

"And then you met Alice?" Emmett guessed.

"And then I met Alice," Jasper said softly. His eyes stared off into the distance, and his conscious thoughts evaporated as he remembered. Alice was sitting at the counter of a diner, just hopping off a high stool as Jasper entered. She floated toward him, smiling, and he remembered being afraid for just an instant. But then she reached out her hand…

My breath caught in my throat, and I was surprised at the warmth which filled my own heart as I shared his memory. I literally _felt_ Jasper's shock as his hand touched Alice's, his awe as he took her in his arms, and then a strange, buoyant feeling… what was it?

"She changed my life," Jasper whispered. "No… that's not quite right. She gave me a life. She _is_ my life." _She's everything._

I breathed again, stunned by the intensity of his focus on Alice, and what it did to me. I felt like my body was being turned inside out, like I was lifting off the ground, immersed in a sea of… something. Jasper's eyes snapped over to me, and everything was gone suddenly. I was about to ask him about it, but it didn't seem to matter, now that it was over.

"Nothing like it, is there?" Emmett asked. "Being in love. Being a _vampire_ in love." He stopped breathing, remembering the moment Rosalie had picked him up, cradling his broken body in her strong arms. It was a fuzzy human memory, but powerful nonetheless.

"No," Jasper agreed, breathing deeply. "There isn't. You're thinking of Rosalie right now?" Emmett nodded, and they both looked over at me awkwardly.

"I'll leave you two alone," I growled playfully. "Or should I say, the four of you?"

"Edward's never been in love," Emmett said helpfully. "And he _definitely_ hasn't done the deed."

_There's no need to feel embarrassed_, Jasper thought. _I waited almost a century for my mate._

"I wasn't feeling…" I began. "Oh, never mind."

"I've been wondering," Emmett said to Jasper, tactfully changing the subject. "How come you've got long hair? I thought you were in the Army when you were changed."

"I was, but I was an officer," Jasper answered. "We didn't often trouble ourselves with the rules that the enlisted men followed. Besides, the main reason for keeping a close cut was because of the lice. Being an officer, I had my own tent. What about you, Emmett? Did you ever serve in the military?"

"No, I couldn't. I thought about the Navy once or twice – I wanted to see the world, and all- but my family needed me."

"_I _never knew you wanted to be in the Navy, Emmett," I said in surprise.

"Hey, just because you can dig around inside my head doesn't mean you know everything about me."

"What about you, Edward?" Jasper asked. "I suppose you were too young to enlist."

"Yes, I was seventeen. The Great War- World War I, I mean, was going on then, and I suppose I was just like every other boy in 1918, dreaming about going off to save the world. My mother would have been heartbroken. But the Spanish Flu decided for me, in the end."

"And then Carlisle found you," Jasper said thoughtfully. "I'm curious about that. Did he ever say why he changed you?"

"He was lonely. He had thought for decades about creating a companion, someone he could teach to respect human life like he did. He was working in the hospital that I was taken to, and my mother was dying, like I was. She asked him to save me, even if it meant doing something that others couldn't do."

"She knew what he was?"

"I don't see how. Maybe it was some kind of sixth sense, or hallucination. Anyway, her request was her dying wish, and it moved him to act. And he said he saw something in me, something good…" I waited for the usual bitterness to fall over me, but it didn't.

Odd.

"Anyway," I continued. "He decided to try it… he wasn't sure he knew how to do it correctly. But here I am."

"And Alice started watching a few years later, so I know about Esme, and the rest," Jasper said. "But I'm still trying to figure Carlisle out. In my experience, the only reason to purposely turn someone is so that they can fight for you."

"That's terrible," I said. "Your creator had no affection for you at all?"

"Maria was… fond of me," Jasper said tightly. "I was her greatest asset, from the moment I awoke. I..." He clenched his teeth, locking down his thoughts. _I'd rather not discuss her._

"I'm sorry, I meant no offense," I said. "But surely you can see that Carlisle is nothing like that."

"Yes, I can see that," he admitted. "Although I'm still trying to understand it."

"He's our father," Emmett said with a shrug. "Our dad. Think of him that way, and it makes a lot more sense."

"I feel that way, too," I added. "From the very first, Carlisle and I treated each other as father and son."

"So Carlisle created you, and told you that you were to stay with him, as his son?"

"No, it wasn't like that at all. I mean, he did say that I needed to stay with him throughout my newborn year, but that I would be free to stay or go as I chose, after that. But I never wanted to leave him. It just felt natural, for both of us. I've never once seen him as anything but my father, since the moment I awoke to this life."

"That's always how Alice described him, too," Jasper said with a nod. "I suppose I didn't really believe her until now. Not that I didn't believe her visions; just that I wondered whether her interpretation was correct. Even now, I still don't understand. Why do you all stay with Carlisle and his mate? You're not really children, and you say he's not forcing you to stay."

"We choose to live as a family, together," I explained. "Carlisle and Esme are the parents, and we're the children, despite whatever age we're playing for the humans. Though Emmett and Rosalie spent a few years off on their own, just recently."

"It wasn't the same, though," Emmett said. "We missed being at home. I even missed _this_ joker," he added, ruffling my hair. I snapped at his hand, which made Jasper stiffen again. Emmett and I broke down laughing, and Jasper laughed as well, after a moment.

_They really are a family_, he thought, smiling at the humor and love that he was feeling from Emmett and I. _I don't believe it. Alice was right all along._


	11. Suspicion

**Sorry, but you know me... my "fluff" is rarely without a bit of angst! And let's be honest, messing with Edward's head never gets old :)**

* * *

As we approached the house, Jasper grew quieter. He was wondering whether Alice would be back, and what mood Carlisle would be in. Earlier, he had slung the tattered remains of his shirt over his shoulder as he walked. Now he was trying to put it back on, concerned what Carlisle and Esme would think of his "uncivilized" appearance.

"Don't worry about it," I told him. "For one thing, Emmett and I come home looking like that all the time." This wasn't exactly true, and Jasper raised one eyebrow, catching me easily in the lie. "Well, sometimes we do. My point is, we're all vampires here, and nobody is going to be upset because of your shirt. Mine is just as ruined. And secondly, Carlisle's not even home."

"How can you tell?" Jasper asked. "We're still pretty far out, aren't we?"

"About three miles. But Carlisle's mind is the one I've been listening to the longest, and so I'm most familiar with it… attuned to it, I mean. It takes very little effort for me to check for his thoughts, even at this distance. He's probably already gone to work."

_So trusting_, Jasper marveled. _I may have overdone it._

"Overdone what?" I asked.

"Oh… I mean, I may have been too apprehensive, coming here today. Alice assured me that we would be accepted, but I wasn't so sure. You have to admit, your coven is an unusual one."

"Our _family_," I reminded him. "Carlisle has a theory about that. He believes that it's the animal diet that allows us to be so, so…" I searched for the right word.

Jasper cocked his head, fishing for the word as well. "Civilized?"

"_Human_," Emmett said with finality.

"Yes, I think that's it," Jasper said slowly. "Human. When Alice first told me, for example, that Carlisle has a _job_, I seriously wondered whether she was getting the whole picture." I smiled as he silently admitted to wondering whether Carlisle's job at the hospital was really just a front for stealing blood.

"You're not the first one to think that," I said. "When we first met the wolves, they were convinced that Carlisle-"

"Wolves?" Jasper interrupted. "What wolves?"

"Alice missed that?" I wondered. "That's odd. I got the impression that her visions tended to center on important events. Carlisle and I could easily have died that day."

"Back up," Jasper said eagerly. "What _wolves_? How could a pack of animals have threatened _you_?"

"Not wolves," Emmett said, his voice dropping to a ominous whisper. "_Werewolves_. Didn't you know they were real?"

Jasper eyed him suspiciously. _Another one of Emmett's pranks? __But he's not lying._"There were stories… but I always thought those were myths." _Another way for Maria to keep us from deserting._ "You mean there are actual werewolves, here in the United States? Or was this during your world travels?"

"No, this was back in '36, when we lived in Washington State," I answered. "Although we don't believe this group was technically werewolves. They're more like shapeshifters, having the freedom to phase back and forth at will, with no link to the moon. We encountered them on the Olympic Peninsula. I wonder why Alice didn't see _any_ of that."

"You're right, it is odd," Jasper agreed. "But she can't be paying attention all the time. Did you spend a lot of time around these werewolves?"

"Nope, we only met once," Emmett said, his voice hard as he remembered Rosalie's injury. "And like Edward said, we still don't understand how they relate to the werewolves in the stories- which are real, too. Anyway, they smelled awful, like someone had set a dead dog on fire."

"Carlisle and I were alone when we first encountered them," I said, picking up the story. "And the fight began immediately. Whatever this breed's relation to traditional werewolves is, the natural enmity was definitely there; it was like smelling them made us _need_ to fight, and vice versa. There were three of them, and things might have gone very badly if the others hadn't been so close by. Once we were all together, Carlisle somehow managed to calm himself down enough to speak to them, and we were able to draw up a treaty of sorts with them. We divided the peninsula and agreed that we would each keep to our own lands."

"A treaty?" Jasper scoffed. "That sounds like something Carlisle would come up with." _A foolish choice. They should have been eliminated._

"He didn't _want_ to kill them," I said, frowning. "But you're right, it's something only he could have done. The rest of us were too far gone with rage and hatred. Anyway, after that night we never saw the wolves again. We stuck to our side of the line, and they to theirs."

"I guess that's why Alice never noticed," Jasper said thoughtfully. "Though, like you said, I'm surprised her visions didn't alert her to such a dangerous moment. Odd."

We entered the back yard, and I showed Jasper where to burn his shirt outside, while I went to change inside. Emmett offered to take him on a more detailed tour of the surrounding woods, and I decided to run down to Yale to get the Jaguar. Before leaving, I pulled Emmett aside.

"Keep close to the house," I said quietly. "He can't be anywhere near humans."

_All right. __This is a switch, isn't it? __Me taking care of the newborn. __Wonder if he'd mind if I called him that._

"Emmett…"

_Okay, okay! __I'll be nice. Poor__ kid hasn't got a sense of humor… yet. __I'll fix that soon enough._

"I'm sure you will," I laughed, shoving my keys in my pocket as I began to run. I jumped right up to my top speed, enjoying the force of the wind as it tore through my hair. I soon found myself racing through the spotty woods of Massachusetts, and I could just catch the barest hint of my own scent, left over from my escape earlier this week. It must not have rained as much down here.

As I ran past the spot where I had buried my surgical garb, I considered all the things that had happened since I was here last. It had turned out that my "close call" had hurt my patient more than I had realized, and my foray into medical school had come to an abrupt end. Then the thing with Rosalie had happened, and I had decided to leave. But then the truly unexpected had happened, and now I suddenly had two new siblings. What a week.

My first reflex had been to delay my departure, because of the threat. Two strange vampires had suddenly descended on us, and both were gifted. It had felt imperative that I stick around in order to observe their thoughts, and to make sure that there was no danger. But after spending several hours with Jasper, at least, I felt better about leaving my family with them. He had a questionable past, of course, but who was I to judge? And true, his eyes were evidence enough of his instability with the diet. But he really was like a newborn, in that way; he would learn. And, granted, he had wasted no time in picking apart our emotions and relationships with one another… that was strange behavior for a nomad, but I supposed he was just protecting his mate. And then there was his fighting prowess, not to mention the sheer power of Alice's gift, and the uncanny timing of their arrival…

I slowed to a walk, frowning. Why had none of these things been bothering me before? Why had Carlisle accepted Jasper and Alice into our home like old friends? We didn't even know these people!

I reviewed the events and conversations of the afternoon, looking at them in a new light. By the time Emmett and I had gotten home, the others had already relaxed around our guests, to the point of giving them _my _room, as soon as Alice asked for it. But how long could they have possibly been there? It couldn't have been more than three hours. And yet in this short time, they seemed to have somehow gained my parents' full trust.

Esme, I could understand. She was such a mother, I could see her being instantly drawn to two young nomads, searching for a home. And Carlisle, I had to admit, was sometimes far too trusting, far too eager to see the good in everyone. But it was odd for him to so easily accept two strangers into the family; he saw it as his duty to protect us, and he had even been _overprotective_ at times, in the past. So why was he just buying everything they said? He hadn't had a single worry as he sent Esme and Rosalie off with Alice. And for Rosalie, of all people, to be so trusting, so easy-going…

Rosalie! My stomach dropped as the memory our fight, and the awful consequences that had followed it, hit me. It felt as if I had forgotten it for a while. The truth was, I had been so distracted by our guests that I supposed I _had_ forgotten it for a while. And Rosalie seemed to have forgotten her anger, as well. I remember now, thinking how unlike her it was to be so forgiving, so accepting. Where was the grudge, the two weeks of thinking daggers at me? Where was her anger at Carlisle? It was like she had suddenly been a different person.

In fact, _I_ had been like a different person.

I reviewed the afternoon again, focusing on everything that _I _had said and done. I remembered two instances where I had gotten angry- once at Alice, and once about my room. And in both instances, my anger had literally collapsed in a matter of a few seconds. And not just my anger about those two events; I had been practically empty of the grief, shame, and anger at myself that I had been drowning in for the past two days. Where had it gone, so suddenly? And during the mock fights today, between Emmett, Jasper and I, we had all been so _calm_. Not that Emmett and I got truly angry during our scuffles, but we did get pretty ferocious sometimes. We were often snarling, or snapping our teeth… or at least vibrating with energy, destroying everything in our wake. Not today, though.

What was the matter with everyone? What was the matter with _me_? Why was all this occurring to me now, when I was away from…

I sucked in my breath, turning back North as if I could see my family from here. I was away from _Jasper_ now. Now that I was away from him, suddenly all these suspicions, emotions were popping up like they had been asleep. And Jasper was an empath. What exactly did that mean? An empath was someone who had a supernatural ability to feel the emotions of others. A gift, one that Jasper had freely admitted to having. I remembered once hearing Eleazar speak about how the Volturi had classified the gift within their ranks. There were many ways that gifts could be organized, but the two most basic groups were defensive and offensive. An empathic gift was a defensive one, wasn't it? Like my own? The power to observe, to detect… not act. Yes, definitely defensive.

I reviewed the events a third time, focusing on everything Jasper had done, said and thought. I had been observing almost constant activity in his mind, just beneath the conscious layer- that intangible, wordless flashing that meant he was using his gift. I had seen similar flashes of activity in other gifted vampires, though never as constant as I had seen in Jasper. And I had naturally assumed that it was simply his gift processing everyone's emotions. But what if it was something else?

Now that I thought about it, Jasper had spent an inordinate amount of time controlling his thoughts around me today. And it hadn't bothered me at the time, because I was a stranger to him as well; surely he was just uncomfortable having me rifle through his brain. Well, it bothered me _now_. What had he been hiding?

I remembered what he had thought earlier, back when I had told him that Carlisle had gone to work. _So trusting. __I may have overdone it._ And I had, in what now seemed a sluggish, apathetic way, asked what he meant. He had deflected my question, and I hadn't even bothered to follow up. What, exactly, had he "overdone"? The idea of "doing" implied that something about his gift was offensive, not just defensive. What if he had the power to not only _feel_ emotions, but to create them? _Control _ them?

I anxiously flashed through everything a fourth time, and my theory fit. It explained everything- Carlisle's easy trust, my short-lived anger, Emmett's relative calm during our fights, Rosalie's complete turnaround with me and Carlisle… I had to be right. Jasper had been controlling our emotions the whole time! He had somehow lulled us into such a relaxed state that our family was now spread out to four locations, vulnerable to attack.

But why? Why go through all the trouble of luring us into accepting them? If Jasper wanted to destroy us, why didn't he just make us hate each other, and let us finish ourselves off for him? And what was Alice's role in all this? She seemed so harmless, but what if we weren't getting the whole story about her gift, either? What if there was an offensive component to that, as well? I couldn't even imagine what that would _be_. I wondered again why they had chosen to come this week. Had Alice seen the events of this week, and informed her mate that we were weak, divided? Maybe this had been the best time to strike. Well, they should have waited one more day, because there was no way I was leaving _now_. I was going to get to the bottom of this, immediately. I just hoped I wasn't too late.

.

.

.

I was so close to New Haven that I decided to continue on, instead of running home immediately. I ran right by my car, heading for the main building at the University. I broke into a first floor office, picking up the phone and dialing our home number. My hand was shaking as I lifted the receiver to my ear. What if nobody answered? What would I do then?

"Cullen Residence."

"Emmett! Is everything all right there?"

"Of course it is. Why shouldn't it be?"

"Who's there with you?"

"Just Jasper. And let me tell you, bro, I can smell the sweet scent of victory. There's no _way_ the girls are out this long, and coming home with less than ten bags. I was thinking the victor should be allowed to pick the color. How does pink sound to you?"

I sighed, relieved at how calm my brother sounded. Maybe I had been too quick to…

I froze. Of _course_ he was calm; he was still there with Jasper. And I couldn't tell him my suspicion over the phone, in case Jasper was listening. And even if he didn't hear, he would feel Emmett's suspicion, and possibly attack sooner, or do whatever he was he was planning.

Emmett snorted into the phone. "So, why are you calling? Don't tell me you miss me already."

"I… no reason. I just wanted to see if the others were back yet. I'll be home soon." I hung up, wondering what I should do. I ducked back out the window that I had broken and ran back to my car. Well, whatever the plan, I didn't need to be in Connecticut any longer. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I swept the hospital with my gift, searching for John Lewis' mind, or that of his fiancée. I felt guilty now for having forgotten about him all day; yet another grain of evidence that I hadn't been myself.

I finally found Janey's thoughts. She was downstairs in the dining room, chatting with her mother, who had just arrived. She was exhausted, but happy; she was telling her mother all about how well John's recovery was coming along. He was off the oxygen, and had sat up in a chair for a couple of hours this morning…

That was all I heard as I sped away, but that was enough. I sighed in relief, feeling my shoulders relax as I assured myself that I hadn't _completely_ ruined everything this week. I just hoped that I hadn't failed my family, catching the danger that Jasper presented too late. It was my job to keep an eye out for things like this, to monitor the thoughts of the strangers we encountered. I was supposed to be the one who alerted Carlisle to anything unusual. Instead, I had just gotten lured into a false calm along with the rest of them.

Despite my worry, it felt good to push the Jaguar to its top speed. I raced straight up through Connecticut and Massachusetts, keeping an eye on the clock. What was Alice's part in their plan? She was obviously supposed to keep the women away, so that Jasper could… what? It was hard to imagine such a tiny, happy-looking vampire doing anything malicious. But then, there was Jane, whose appearance had _definitely _been deceiving… I now entertained visions of Volturi involvement, or even worse: a newborn army, following the empathic vanguard in after their targets had been emotionally disabled. Who knew what they were planning? I stepped on the gas again, anxious to return home.

I slowed down a mile away from our house to listen, only to speed up again and continue up Route 5 into New Hampshire, and toward Woodsville. Emmett and Jasper were talking calmly right now, and I saw no evidence that Jasper was planning any sort of attack. Emmett was telling him about our "Vampire Olympics", the sports and games that our family had played back when he was a newborn, as we tried to keep him entertained and away from human blood. Jasper even laughed once, while I was in range. He certainly didn't _seem_ like a man who was waiting for the rest of his army to arrive.

Maybe I was overthinking this. Maybe being around empaths just made people feel calm. Maybe we had all been so distracted by the arrival of our guests, that we had naturally forgotten to continue the family strife that we had been boiling in. Maybe there was no elaborate plan, and Alice really was just a tiny, happy-looking vampire who had visions of the future.

Or maybe… maybe I was second-guessing my doubts because I was closer to Jasper now. When I had asked him what his range was earlier today, that was one of the times I had noticed him controlling his thoughts suddenly. I stepped anxiously on the gas again, flying by the cars unlucky enough to share the road with me. I needed backup.

.

.

.

I hadn't been to Cottage Hospital in over a month. I felt my shame eating at me as I walked into the tiny Emergency Room, wondering if my arrival would stir up any thoughts about my blunder down at Yale. But nobody seemed to notice my presence, other than a couple of the younger nurses, who waved shyly at me and wondered why I hadn't been around lately.

I found Carlisle in one of the exam rooms, discharging a patient. I slowed my frantic pace, quietly murmuring his name to interrupt his lecture on the other side of the curtain. He halted his speech immediately, drawing the curtain aside.

"Edward! What are you doing here? What's the matter?"

"I need to speak with you. In private. _Now._"

He frowned and handed the discharge papers to the nurse. "Finish up with Mr. Davis, would you, Donna? Thank you." He led me to a semi-private office behind the Emergency Room and closed the door. "Now, what's happened?"

I drew a deep breath. "I think our visitors may not be as innocent as they've led us to believe. Jasper, especially." I explained my observations and suspicions as quickly as possible. As I spoke, Carlisle flitted through his own memories of the day, including the hours that I hadn't been there.

"There, you see?" I interrupted, pointing to his head as he remembered the moment when Alice had convinced Esme to hand over my room. "That's what I mean. Esme was reluctant, for just a moment, and then she was suddenly willing. And I know for a fact that she was worried about me this morning. She would never have done that, if there wasn't something funny going on."

Carlisle wrinkled his brow. "I thought you said you didn't mind about the room."

"This isn't about the _room_," I hissed. "This is about our family being drugged into lethargically accepting a pair of dangerous, gifted vampires into our midst without a second thought!"

"Calm down, Edward! Now, I admit, your observations do point to something curious. But I hardly think they've come to kill us all, son. What would be the point?"

"Jasper himself said that he used to lead vampires into battle, over territory."

"What territory? Those battles were fought to assert control over hunting grounds of _human_ blood. We hold no such claim to this area. And if he was planning something, I hardly think he would have confessed to having such a violent past. Have you actually observed anything in his thoughts about some ulterior motive, or plan for takeover?"

"Well… no. But Alice is already an expert at hiding her thoughts from me, and Jasper is learning fast. And what I _did_ see in his thoughts wasn't exactly comforting."

"What? What did you see?"

"Slaughter," I spat. "I've only observed his mind for, what, five hours? And in that time, I've seen memories of him killing at least four vampires in battle. One of them was a young girl, Carlisle! Fifteen years old!"

"You said yourself that we shouldn't judge him for his past," Carlisle said softly. _And you also pointed out that we've all done things we aren't proud of, remember?_

"That's beside the point! You should have seen him this afternoon, Carlisle. He was asking all sorts of questions about you, about our family, about our past…"

"Well, of course he was! He and Alice have come to join our…" He stepped back mentally, looking through his memories again with the lens of my suspicion. "It is a bit odd, isn't it?" He murmured. "I let them right in the door, and I let the female go out with Esme and Rosalie without a second thought."

"Exactly! And consider my own behavior, and Rosalie's. You know I've had a difficult week, and you know how angry she was just this morning. Can you honestly say you've ever seen either of us this calm following such a confrontation, or in my case, such a disaster?"

"Yes… now that you mention it, I've been wondering how you managed to be so quickly at peace with your, ah, situation. Though to be honest, you seemed that way this morning, _before_ they arrived."

"I…" I couldn't tell him the full truth about that; the truth was, that I had already been at peace this morning because I had already made my decision to leave. Nor could I tell him about the biggest irony of all: their arrival on the very day that I had been planning to leave. "Maybe he was also lying about his range," I said quickly. "Maybe he was working on us long before they arrived."

Carlisle looked doubtful. "I don't know, son. I have a hard time believing that they would have gone through all this trouble, for _any_ reason. Maybe he was just calming everyone in order to minimize the chance for a confrontation. Maybe he just wants us to trust them."

"Maybe you're right," I sighed, feeling embarrassed now about my wilder guesses. "But even if it is just that, he's still deceiving us. And I still want to know the truth, don't you? Preferably _before_ the female gets home. I can only guess what they've been hiding about _her_ gift."

"Yes, I think we'd better do that. Let's call home."

I shook my head. "I did that earlier, just to see if Emmett was all right."

"And?"

"He was as happy as a clam, naturally. Of course, Jasper was sitting right there, so I couldn't say anything."

_But if we go home now, and Jasper is doing something to control the emotional environment, we'll be susceptible again ourselves._

"I… hadn't thought of that," I said glumly. "Although I think if we hurry in, we won't be as affected. The times I got angry around him before, there was a delay of a few seconds before I calmed down… it still felt unnatural, in retrospect, but not instantaneous. And I was able to get angry, so I don't think he has complete control… not yet, anyway."

"Let's hope not," Carlisle sighed, opening the office door and stepping back out into the Emergency Room. _I certainly hope we're wrong. __I hate to think that they've been deliberately deceiving us, even if their intentions are good. __I'm not sure how I should deal with them, if that ends up being the case._

He set the thought aside, and started coughing loudly. I turned back to him, confused, but he just winked at me, mussing his immaculate hairline with one hand. "Ken," he called weakly to a doctor who was passing by, "I think I'd better head on home. Turns out that flu wasn't the twenty-four hour kind, after all." His voice was tired and raspy, and his coworker turned around, concerned.

"You look awful, Carlisle," he said, frowning. "I _told_ you not to come back to work with that fever."

"I haven't got a fever," Carlisle protested. "I'm _freezing._" He coughed again, and Ken strode over to us, feeling Carlisle's hand.

_His hands are like ice!_ "Go home," he ordered. "I don't want to see you back here for at least three days."

"If you insist," Carlisle sighed. "Edward, would you drive me home? I'm feeling a little dizzy."

"Okay, dad," I said, hiding my own smile. The other doctor noticed me for the first time, frowning again.

"Better get the kid to bed, too," he added. "He looks just as sick as you do."

.

.

.

_The power of suggestion_, Carlisle thought as we left the building. _It's an amazing thing, isn't it? __You tell the humans one little thing, and they do the rest for you._

"I don't see why he thought _I_ was sick," I scowled. "Come on, let's get home."

Carlisle and I drove side by side with our windows down, except for when we came across other drivers. "The more I think about it, the less I think there's any danger," he said. "And besides, it was Esme's idea to go shopping, not Alice's."

"Unless the idea was planted in her mind somehow," I said. "Power of suggestion?"

"Edward, I seriously doubt that a shopping trip is part of some grand military scheme," Carlisle chuckled.

"Okay… I agree that sounded a little absurd." It was a good thing I hadn't told him about my newborn army theory.

We drove in silence for a while, as Carlisle wrestled with his options, in the case that our suspicions were correct. Alice and Jasper weren't his children, not really; he didn't feel he had any right to discipline them, or send them away, as long as Jasper would agree to be more forthright. On the other hand, they were the ones who had inserted themselves into our family. To show weakness here, at the very beginning, would only invite more trouble. And now that Carlisle was outside of Jasper's possible influence, he was worrying more about how to manage Jasper himself. He was thinking of new questions he wanted to ask, and wondered exactly what Jasper's intentions were. He was far older than all of us, excluding Carlisle himself. And considering his past, it was possible that Jasper _was_ planning on challenging Carlisle in his position as coven leader.

"Now there's a phrase I haven't heard in a while," I said from my car. "'Coven leader'?"

"I don't like thinking of myself that way," he said uncomfortably. "But in this situation, it applies. The vast majority of Jasper's experience hasn't been anything like ours. He seems to be quite lost in our 'family' setting. In fact, it sounds like he's never even been in a normal coven. His creator sounds more like a general than a mother."

"Yes, he asked Emmett and I a few things about you, after you left. He's confused by your leadership style, and he's trying to understand the whole 'father' thing. I mean, I _thought_ he was trying to understand, back when I was with him. Now I'm not sure what to think."

"Well, we'll soon know more." _I'll have to tread carefully with this. __Even with his age and vast military experience, Jasper is out of his element here. __And even if he might be more qualified than me-_

"Stop right there," I growled. "He is not more _qualified_ than you. He doesn't know the first thing about the kind of life we live."

"Please, Edward, let me think. I meant in terms of combat, of defending our family. If there ever does come a time where we need to fight, it may be appropriate to have Jasper serve as our 'general', as it were. I will gladly surrender my authority to him in that particular scenario… once he's earned _my _trust. But in every other way, he will need guidance. In some ways, he will need far more than any of you have, because of how much he will need to unlearn. And I've already seen hints that his human life was troubled, as well, in terms of his relationship with his real father. It may take some time for him to trust me, or to submit himself to… parenting. I think for the time being, it may be easier for him to think of me as the coven leader."

I nodded, impressed. How did Carlisle always manage to pick up more than I did about these things? And he wasn't even a mind-reader!

"We're close enough now," Carlisle said, slowing down. "What are you hearing?"

I slowed down as well, straining to hear Jasper's mind. Emmett's was easy, because I was so familiar with it. When I did find Jasper, I noticed that his gift was far less active than it had been earlier.

"He's down in the living room reading," I reported. "And worrying about Alice- he thought she'd be back by now. Emmett's in his room, fixing that squeaky hinge."

_Any evidence of him influencing Emmett?_

"No… whatever was going on earlier, it's stopped."

"How can you tell?" _Remember, it's possible that we're already being affected. __We don't know his true range, if he was lying about that before._

"No, this part is cut and dry," I replied. "When I observe the mind of a gifted vampire, there are these… flashes, I guess you could call them, when that vampire's gift is active. No words that I can overhear, just… instinct."

"You've never told me that before," Carlisle said curiously. "Are you thinking of Eleazar, when he was helping you develop your gift?"

"Mostly, yes. Although I remember seeing a similar thing going on in Demetri's mind, back when he and Jane visited us. In the beginning, when he was… you know, _memorizing_ me, or whatever it is he does. And Kate, when she did that experiment with us back in 1919. Anyway, I noticed earlier that Jasper's gift was almost constantly active. I just assumed that he was constantly processing everyone's emotions. But now I'm wondering if that was him using the offensive part of his gift."

"If there is one," Carlisle added.

"Right. Ready to go in?"

"Yes. And if there is any kind of confrontation, I want you to stay close to me. We may not be able to count on Emmett, if Jasper's been influencing him." _I mean it, Edward. __Jasper would be a lethal opponent, and you will NOT engage him alone. __Understood?_

I nodded, and we headed up the driveway, parking side by side. Jasper appeared in the living room window, one eyebrow cocked curiously.

_Judging by the phone call and your apprehension, I'm guessing you've figured it out by now._ He showed me his memory of halting my anger earlier, when I had yelled at Alice. Only this time, his involvement in my sudden change was obvious.

I nodded. "We were right," I said aloud. "He's been manipulating us. He just admitted it."

_Any evidence of hostility?_

"No."

Carlisle sighed, squared his shoulders, and headed into the house. I followed right behind him, feeling immeasurably thankful that _I_ would never have to be a father.


	12. Second Chance

**Thank you to whilewewereyetsinners and strawberry4evr, who helped me out a bit with this chapter. And zveka, who's been helping me pick apart Jasper's personality. Enjoy!**

* * *

Jasper met us in the living room. His mind was racing as he took stock of Carlisle's mood. _I thought he would be angrier… I just don't understand._

My own anger dropped so suddenly that I became suspicious. But Jasper was focused completely on Carlisle, and I was beginning to see the difference in how his gift operated. He was only sensing now; the brighter flashes that I had seen earlier were gone. It annoyed me, though, that he could already tell he wasn't really in danger. I had hoped that he would be more defensive, or at least have the decency to pretend to be ashamed. I crossed my arms, waiting to see how this would play out.

Carlisle walked right up to Jasper, stopping mere inches in front his face. He held himself tall, his face stern. _Is he controlling me right now?_

"No."

Jasper was holding himself at attention before Carlisle, ready to spring away if needed. "I apologize if I caused offense," he said carefully. "I want you to know that Alice had nothing to do with it."

"We'll deal with Alice later," Carlisle said quietly. "Right now, I want you to explain to me why you felt the need to control our emotions, and why you felt it was necessary to hide the truth from us about your gift."

Jasper lifted his chin defiantly, clasping his hands behind his back. "It was my responsibility to take precautions. Alice is not trained in combat, and she has no offensive power. As her mate, it is my duty to protect her in every way I know how. Surely you would do the same, if you and Esme were approaching a large coven, unannounced?"

"Why were you apprehensive?" Carlisle asked, his brow furrowed. "Alice has been observing us for years. Surely she told you how peaceful we are."

Jasper relaxed slightly, and I saw a brief memory of Alice smiling, assuring him that everything would be fine. "She told me, yes. And I trusted her enough to come here, to put her at risk in order to give her the life she has always wanted. But Alice is young, naïve. She has no experience with any vampires except myself, and not even the memories of associating with her fellow humans. I trust the accuracy of her visions, but I thought…" he paused, glancing back at Emmett, who had just entered the room. "I thought she must have been interpreting some of her visions incorrectly… missing things. You've seen how positive, how trusting she is. I couldn't imagine that her hopeful interpretation of her visions were accurate."

"What's going on?" Emmett asked.

"Jasper was not fully honest with us about the nature of his gift," Carlisle explained.

"He's been controlling our emotions from the minute they got here," I added, scowling over at Jasper.

Emmett shrugged. "I know."

"What do you mean, you _know_?" I asked, uncrossing my arms slowly.

"Jasper told me, while you were gone."

"May I clarify something?" Jasper asked. "I am not capable of _controlling_ anyone's emotions. Influence, yes. It is easiest to intensify an emotion that is already felt. I can also decrease existing emotional states, or generate new ones. But my power is limited.. and fleeting, as Edward so quickly discovered. I never intended to extend any sort of permanent control over anyone here. I merely used my gift upon our arrival to minimize the danger."

"There was no _danger_," I said, "other than that which you brought with you. You are by far the most dangerous vampire here!"

Jasper smiled slightly. "That's a matter of opinion. But as I said, I was reluctant to accept Alice's faith in this coven's civility. I'm sure you can understand, Carlisle, that my… upbringing… was nothing like that which you are giving your 'children'. In my experience, the only reason to purposely create a vampire is so that they can serve you in some way. Alice's visions only began in 1920, and it wasn't until two years later that she learned to really control her gift, to seek out any certain person at will. Neither of us had any way of knowing what your past was, or why you changed Edward, or if you'd really been following the animal diet for long, or anything. She's been piecing together your history over the years, using snatches of observations and conversations she's observed. I truly believed that she had to be missing quite a lot."

"Like what?"

"Take Edward, for example," Jasper replied, nodding in my direction. "He said that I was the most dangerous vampire here, but from my perspective, _he_ is. Edward is, by any reckoning, one of the most powerful vampires in existence. If someone like him had been created in the South, he would have been used as a tool to gain power, and ensure the loyalty of those beneath him. I can only imagine how he would have used that power for _himself_. It would have been a simple matter to assassinate his creator and become the leader of his own army."

"Ridiculous," I scoffed.

"Edward would never have done those things, no matter who created him," Carlisle said firmly. "And what does this have to do with Alice 'missing things' about us?"

"I'm just telling you what things came to my mind when I first heard of his talent," Jasper said. "Alice was quick to set me straight, of course; but she could have easily missed a more benign version of those things, taking place in this coven. I naturally assumed that Edward would be using his gift to ensure his position as your lieutenant, just without the violence that I mentioned before; you know, blackmail, spying on the others for you, that sort of thing."

"Naturally," I growled. "I'm pleased to hear you had such faith in me."

"Why should have I faith in you?" Jasper asked, raising an eyebrow. "I had never even met you. In my world, underestimating your enemy- especially a gifted one- was equivalent to signing your own death warrant."

"I think I'm beginning to understand why you were so apprehensive," Carlisle said slowly. "And I'm beginning to see how foreign our coven must seem to you."

Jasper cocked his head. "Coven? I thought you considered this a family, Carlisle."

"I do," Carlisle said proudly. "Esme isn't just my mate; she's my wife. And I love and cherish each of my children in a way that a human father never could. I am merely attempting to use terms that you are familiar with. Though I am curious, Jasper; if you had these suspicions about us, why did you come at all? Surely you were afraid to expose yourself and your mate to what you seemed to consider a dangerous situation."

"Because I _do_ trust Alice," Jasper said softly. "These were only my earliest suspicions, you understand. The more she told me, and the more visions she saw in my company, the more at odds my suspicions seemed with what she was seeing. Just as I suspected her visions weren't telling her the whole picture, I knew that my instincts weren't telling _me_ everything. Why would a vampire so gifted as Edward continue to live as a subordinate, when he could have easily turned the others against you years ago? Why would a natural fighter like Emmett smile so often, and obey your mate as if she was really his mother? Alice once had a vision of Emmett committing some silly transgression- it was some prank involving deer blood, and a load of laundry…"

"Ha!" Emmett laughed. "I remember that. Ooh, she was _mad_!" I smiled as well, despite myself. Emmett had been particularly bored that day in 1937, and still relatively young: not a good combination.

"That's my point exactly," Jasper said. "Alice saw her scolding you from six inches away, her finger in your face without a hint of visible fear. How would that be possible, if you weren't really the gentle giant that Alice insisted you were?"

"Gentle giant," Emmett snorted. _Not sure if I like that one._

"Anyway, it was things like that that made me believe in Alice's vision for her future here… for _our_ future here," he added hesitantly, looking back to Carlisle. "But not enough to enter the engagement without precautions. I would never disclose the truth about my offensive power to anyone who I did not consider a close friend." He paused. "In fact, I've only ever _had_ one friend, in the past. And he already knew the truth, from working with me."

"Peter?" I asked.

Jasper nodded. "It took me years to come to trust Peter with any sort of… vulnerability. In fact, I didn't realize the bond we had until the night he escaped with his mate."

"And yet you are being honest with us now," Carlisle pointed out. "And you only met us today. Why?"

"I suppose my suspicions were quickly laid to rest earlier today… after my time in the woods with Edward and Emmett, especially. My gift allowed me to see the comfort they felt in each other's company- something I never would have seen, if my suspicions had been correct. And of course, I had already had Alice's assurance that everything would be fine."

"So that's why Jasper told me the truth earlier," Emmett put in. "He said he had seen, I mean _felt_ enough to know that he could trust us."

"I'm going to be honest," Jasper told Carlisle, holding himself more stiffly. "I had a feeling that Edward was close to figuring out the truth, when he left earlier. In fact, I'm surprised it took him as long as it did. This is why I told Emmett first, to show my good intentions."

"In other words," I muttered, "you wouldn't have come clean so fast if you didn't think I was already on my way to rat you out."

Jasper nodded, still facing Carlisle. "And I'm only admitting it now because Alice has told me how much you value, ah, _honesty_." He made a strange face as he spoke the word, as if it tasted unfamiliar.

"That is true," Carlisle said, his face inscrutable. "Which is why I was very disturbed to learn about your deception. You speak of coming to trust us, but it occurs to me that we have no reason to trust _you_."

Jasper grinned so suddenly that Carlisle blinked. "Forgive me," he said, quickly dropping his smile. "I realize I have offended you, and that you have every right to send us away. It's just that with that statement, you have laid my last suspicion to rest."

"Which is?"

Jasper suddenly looked uncertain. _How should I say this?_ _Honestly, I suppose._ "That you were a weak leader. That the only reason the others haven't killed you or left you is because they didn't need to _bother_. Even five minutes ago, as you entered the house, I could tell that you were feeling uncertain, and hardly angry at all, considering the offense I've committed against you and your coven. My experience told me that this was because you were weak, and that you feared confronting me."

"I did fear it," Carlisle said with a frown. "I feared that you would manipulate me again. And the more I learn, the more I fear that allowing you to stay anywhere near my family may be inviting trouble."

Jasper visibly shrunk, disappointment clouding his features. "I see. I am… gratified to learn that I was wrong about you, Carlisle," he said quietly. "I can see now that you are not weak at all… at least not in the way I thought. Alice will be disappointed, but I'll explain things to her. Perhaps we could return in a few years, with your permission…"

Carlisle held up his hand. "You misunderstand me, Jasper. I am not sending you and Alice away."

"You're not? But you're feeling resolved, and you're still angry." _Your kind of angry, anyway._

"I am? Yes, I suppose I am. I am angry that despite how much you knew about us, you still decided to manipulate us. I'm angry that you took away our freedom to come to trust you and your mate in a natural manner- something which must now be earned uphill, in light of your earlier transgression."

"I understand," Jasper said, nodding. "I am grateful for your candor, and for your acceptance."

"What acceptance?" Carlisle asked, frowning. _I haven't made a decision yet._

"You…" Jasper hesitated, looking at me for help. "I'm confused. Are you letting us stay or not?"

"Jasper believes that your emotions are indicating your full acceptance," I explained to Carlisle.

Carlisle shook his head. "My emotions are irrelevant, Jasper. I may feel _trusting_, but that does not mean that I _trust_ you. I admit that my instincts- now free of your influence- are telling me to accept you. But it would be unwise to freely welcome you and your mate into my family, without getting to know you both further. I, personally, am willing to let you stay, on a trial basis. But the final decision cannot be made until I have spoken with everyone. Edward, Emmett?" He looked up at us in question.

"Fine by me," Emmett said easily. _That mood thing could come in handy.__Maybe he could help Rose sometimes._

"I'm sure she'd _love_ that," I said, rolling my eyes. Then I turned to Carlisle. "I have no objections," I said. If he felt that trusting our newcomers was worth another try, I wouldn't get in his way. I had ruined enough things this week. And I was inclined to trust him again, as well- somewhat. His explanations made sense, at any rate, and I would be around to keep a sharp eye on his mind.

Jasper's eyebrows rose, looking between Carlisle and myself. _That's interesting._ "Thank you," he said quietly.

Carlisle looked relieved; he had been holding his breath until my answer. "We will discuss this with Esme and Rosalie when they return. As I said, I am not offering my trust yet, Jasper, nor my friendship. Those things, I hope, will come in time. But I am offering you a second chance, as long as there are no objections from the ladies. I am offering this chance with the expectation that there will be no further deception."

Jasper nodded again. "I am grateful. And you have my word that I will not use my gift again."

Carlisle looked confused again. "What do you mean?"

"Not the sensory portion," Jasper qualified. "Edward can verify that I can't help that. But I will not use my influence on your coven… your _family_ again."

"Jasper, I'm not asking you to change who you are," Carlisle said slowly. "Your gift is a vital part of your identity, and I would never take that away from you. I am only asking that you not deceive us again."

Jasper nodded again. _That makes sense. __He will want to use me to influence the others, when needed._

"He's not going to _use_ you to do anything," I said in exasperation. Didn't he understand yet?

"Use you?" Carlisle echoed sadly. "Jasper…"

But the front door flew open, and Alice tumbled inside, four shopping bags in each hand. "Hi, everyone!" she sang, dropping the bags and leaping across the room into Jasper's arms. He caught her and pulled her close, burying his face in her neck and inhaling deeply.

_At last!_

Rosalie and Esme entered as well. "I'm glad you all are home," Carlisle began. "We have an-"

"-important matter to discuss," Alice finished. "Don't worry, I was watching the whole time, and everyone's caught up."

"And we vote yes," Esme said, wrapping an arm around Alice, whom Jasper had just set back down. "Of course you can stay. We understand you were just nervous at first, Jasper. Don't we, Rosalie?"

"Yes," Rosalie sighed. Jasper studied her for a moment, and then turned to Carlisle, taking Alice's hand in his own.

Carlisle opened his mouth, but Jasper cleared his throat and spoke first. "I feel there is something I must share with you all, before you make your decision to welcome us into your… home."

He looked suddenly unsure of himself, looking down at Alice. _This may be too much for them. __But she's so happy…_

"It'll be fine," she promised, squeezing his hand. Her mind was dancing with visions, each featuring her and Jasper relaxing along with their new family. The pictures were flickering, but clear. _Still looks good… I think. _"You should tell them everything now."

Carlisle nodded, tensing slightly. _Now what?_

"I mentioned earlier today that I fought in the Southern Wars," Jasper began. "What I did not mention was that I fought in them for eighty years, and that I was…" he took a deep breath. "I was the commander of my army. Maria was always in charge, but she didn't often take the field herself. I was usually the one who led the newborns into battle."

Carlisle's mind flinched, but he kept his face steady. "You didn't know there was another way," he said softly.

"No, I didn't," Jasper agreed. "But I took pride in my victories, nonetheless. My gift gave me power, Carlisle, both in battle and over my subordinates. I used it to keep my army as calm, as civilized as possible, but I also used it to induce fear… both in my enemies, and in my own ranks. I never once hesitated to use my gift as a weapon to achieve my goals."

"You mean Maria's goals," I said, hoping I was right.

Jasper shrugged slightly. "Like Carlisle said, I didn't know there was another way to live. It was kill, or be killed. Maria created me to serve her, and so I did; it was the only life I knew. I became the deadliest fighting machine that the Wars has ever seen. I helped organize the strongest, most efficient army in North and Central America." He said it easily, and without arrogance; it was simply the truth, it seemed. "The fact that I did it as Maria's lieutenant matters little."

"It _does_ matter," Esme said kindly.

"And now that life is behind you," Alice said, planting a kiss on Jasper's sleeve. "You always hated killing. I could see that, from the very beginning."

"Hated it, yes," he agreed. "But it was necessary. And…" he took another deep breath, glancing at Carlisle. "One final thing. I didn't just kill my enemies."

I gasped as I saw the images flooded his mind: memories of leading a single vampire away from the others, and the speedy execution that followed. "You killed your own _men_?" I asked in shock.

"Men… women, children… whoever Maria had changed to serve her… to serve _us_," he said in a faraway voice. I saw his memories of executions like the flipping pages in a book, one after the other: there were _hundreds_. He had killed _hundreds_ of vampires this way, and not one had been in battle. Not one of them had seen it coming, or had the chance to defend themselves. He had just… _slaughtered_ them. What kind of man _was_ this?

"Why would you do such a thing?" Carlisle demanded.

"It was standard procedure," Jasper said, his attention returning the present. "You've created vampires, Carlisle. You know how the extra strength and speed deteriorates after the year mark."

"Yes," Carlisle said. He sounded sick. I was feeling sick, myself. Now that Jasper was done controlling his memories around me, I was beginning to see what a huge role violence had played in his long life. The more I watched, the more I didn't want to see.

"Most of our soldiers didn't make it to the year mark," Jasper continued. "About twenty percent, I'd say. But when they did, their usefulness came to an end. It took a lot of blood to keep an army our size fed, and we didn't have the luxury of keeping those alive who weren't worth their keep."

Esme was just shaking her head, unbreathing. Rosalie was trembling with fury, so much that Jasper winced. "Shall I calm her?" he asked Carlisle.

"Don't you _dare_!" Rosalie shouted. "It's bad enough you've spent your whole life slaughtering your own kind, as well as humans! Keep your emotional tentacles to yourself!"

Jasper ignored her, waiting for Carlisle's instruction.

"No, Jasper," he said firmly. "If she doesn't want your assistance, you must respect her wishes_."__I could use a little calming myself! __What was I thinking? __There's no way I can allow him to stay anywhere near Esme, or the children. __This is just too much, too much!_

"Show them, Jazz," Alice whispered, suddenly tense.

"I've already shown Edward and Emmett," he protested. "I don't think Esme will want to see that." _I don't think I want Carlisle to see, either. __He's getting angrier every second, as it is. My scars will just serve to illustrate how the life I've led is the complete opposite of his own. _I could tell that Jasper was fighting hard now to keep his word about not manipulating us; his gift was aching to act, instinctually needing to protect himself and his mate. Every muscle in his body was tense with readiness as well, but he continued to hold himself upright, standing respectfully before Carlisle. It was this control that made me finally feel an ounce of respect for him.

"You have to," Alice said, her grip tightening on his hand. Her visions were flashing anxiously, the pictures extending along two paths: one set of pictures, I had seen a few moments ago: her and Jasper, relaxing with our family. The other set was of just them, alone and travelling again.. and looking very unhappy. Both futures were flickering- with uncertainty, I supposed- although the one where they stayed with us was more constant.

"See what?" Carlisle demanded. _Surely there isn't more? __I can hardly comprehend what I've already heard! _

Jasper grimaced, reaching up to unbutton the borrowed shirt. Esme, Carlisle and Rosalie gasped in horror as he slid the fabric off of his shoulders, and Alice gently turned Jasper around so they could see everything. I was surprised as well; I hadn't seen much of his back the first time, since he had still been uneasy about that sort of thing earlier today. The white plane of his back was surprisingly free of bite marks; I supposed it wasn't the sort of surface that was easy to bite. But there were six deep gashes extending from his right shoulder down to his left hip, all parallel and very close together; if I didn't know it was impossible, I would think that he had been whipped. His entire back was divided into two diagonal halves by the scars. What could _possibly_ have done this?!

Emmett saw it, too. His words echoed in Alice's mind as he began to speak them. "What's that one, on your back?" he asked.

Jasper's jaw clenched as he quickly donned the shirt again. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, hard. "That was for letting Peter escape."

Carlisle was horrified. "Are you saying that _Maria_ did that to you? With her _teeth_?!"

"Yes."

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that the action would stop Jasper's memories from assaulting me. He cut the scene short for my sake, but not before I heard Maria's harsh whisper in his ear, before she sunk her teeth into his shoulder and tore her way down his back: _This is better than you deserve, you traitor._ I shuddered, and Jasper apologized mentally, replacing the memory with Alice's face.

Esme broke away from Carlisle then, and Jasper froze as she threw her arms around him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she cried, pressing her face into his shoulder. _It's all so horrible! __He's been through so much! __I just want to make it all go away. _He looked down at her in shock, his gift buzzing with sensory activity.

_The pity I expected, but love? __For… me?_ He was still staring at Esme in confusion as she finally pulled away from him, retreating back to Carlisle's side.

Carlisle himself was unsure what to think. He didn't want to retract his offer, but the thought of ever leaving Esme at home with Jasper was frightening; there was just so much violence spinning around in his head, he didn't know what to think. But he also was thinking along the same lines as Esme: that after such a horrible life, Jasper finally had the chance to live in peace, and that our family could off him the home he had been needing for so long.

But Alice gave a little strangled cry; her visions had just changed. Their future here was now flickering out of existence. A new vision appeared, of us all standing here in the living room.

_"__I'm fine with Alice staying here," Rosalie said.__ "__But I'm voting no for Jasper. __I'm sorry, Carlisle, but that's the way I feel about it. __Maybe you don't care about keeping our family safe, but I do. __He can't be trusted."_

_"__Rose," Emmett said in a pleading voice._

_"__No," Rosalie repeated, crossing her arms. __Carlisle nodded, turning to Jasper._

_"__I'm sorry, Alice and Jasper," he said, his eyes downcast.__ "__But I think it's best if we part ways… for now, at least."_

_"__But this is our home," Alice cried, moving to go to Esme. __Jasper grabbed her arm, holding her back, as Carlisle stepped in front of Esme protectively. __We all stood silently as Jasper murmured his apologies, dragging Alice out of the door as she wept, reaching for us._

Alice turned to me with fear in her eyes; Rosalie opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm fine with-"

"Wait," I interrupted. "I want to say something, before we vote."

All eyes turned to me, and I looked at Alice curiously, my words already playing out in her mind. She grinned, nodding encouragingly as her visions of staying eased back into place.

_"__I think I can speak for all of us…"_

"I think I can speak for all of us, Jasper, when I say that we're a little taken aback about everything you've told us. And I know you understand why we're hesitant to trust you- especially after the way you manipulated us earlier. And now we learn that you were purposely withholding information about your past, as well as about your gift, when you told your story earlier today."

Jasper nodded politely, and Rosalie murmured her angry agreement.

"But I think we all need to remember," I said in a clearer voice, "that we have all been given second chances, in the past. And we have all done things we're not proud of." I caught Rosalie's eyes, and she dropped her gaze as she remembered the two innocent men she had killed. "I can see Jasper's memories," I continued. "I see years of darkness, and death upon death. But I can also see how much he hated killing. I can see that he left that life, without a moment's hesitation, once he discovered that there was another way. And now he's trying to live a new kind of life, sparing humans as Alice has taught him… as we have taught him, through her visions. And we all just saw that his biggest scar was won not during battle, but during an act of compassion. Jasper," I said turning to him. "I won't lie to you… not that I could, anyway. I don't feel that I can trust you yet, not really. But you have my vote, and my welcome."

"And mine," Emmett and Esme said together.

Carlisle just nodded his assent, smiling at me proudly. _I couldn't have said it better myself, Edward. __Thank you._

Rosalie finally looked up, a small smile spreading over her face as she saw Alice's triumphant grin. "And mine," she murmured.

"You have your second chance," Carlisle said to Alice and Jasper. "So you are welcome to stay, on the condition that there will be no more deception."

"We promise," Alice said, her eyes sparkling. Jasper nodded his own agreement.

"As I have already said," Carlisle continued. "We want to get to know you both better. I'm off work for the next three days, and we are all going to be spending a lot of time together- especially you and me, Jasper. I'm sure I will have more questions, and I also have some ideas on how we can help you in your struggle with the diet. And I have one final condition," he added, looking Jasper in the eye. "I realize that our family is unusual, as covens go. And I realize that our foreignness is only intensified by the unusual experience that _you've_ had. But my condition is that I want you to make yourself at home. I want you to relax, and I want you to use your gift to soak in the positive feelings that come along with our humane lifestyle, as well as our family bonds. I want you to see, with your own eyes, what it means to be a family, and what it means to live in peace with others. And I want you to enjoy yourself. Do you think you can do that?"

Jasper smiled fully, his beautiful face more free of care than we had seen it so far. "I don't know how," he admitted, his voice thickly accented with emotion. "But I can surely try."


	13. Brothers and Sisters

**Thank you again for all the wonderful reviews! They mean so much to me, especially when you guys take the time to review different parts of each chapter. (And a special thank you to all the guests who have been reviewing!)**

**Now. This is one of those chapters where not much "happens", but it's important nonetheless. Some of you have noticed how "emotionally chaotic" the characters have been in the last couple chapters... and yes, that's intentional, and will explained here in the beginning. This chapter is chaotic in a different way, as the three gifted siblings learn how to interact with each other. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Now that we're all straightened out," Carlisle said, turning to Esme, "I'd like to take my lovely wife out to dinner."

Esme smiled accepting his offered hand, her other hand touching her throat. "Will you all be all right without us for a while?" she asked, looking around the room.

"Yes," Rosalie sighed. _I hope. Still, there's safety in numbers._

Carlisle gave me a meaningful look as he and Esme headed out by way of the garage. _We won't be far- just inside the White Mountains. Send Rosalie to get us if there's any trouble._ I nodded slightly, and he disappeared.

"Hunting shoes?" Jasper asked.

Emmett grinned. "You're catching on. Although Rose has been known to hunt in high heels!"

"I only did that once," Rosalie grumbled.

"And it was hilarious," I snorted.

_Nobody asked you!_

I sighed, remembering that she was angry with me again- or still was, now that Jasper was done drugging her. It was rather a shame; she had been so _pleasant_ earlier. As a matter of fact, so had I.

"Jasper," I said aloud, "I'm curious about something. You were keeping us all calm in the beginning, yes?"

"Yes… among other things. Feelings of trust, peace, pity… though I had to do far less than I had anticipated."

"I see. Well, I can understand why I wasn't calm after I drove away. And I can understand why I wasn't able to feel suspicious until then. But why…" I frowned, unsure of how to say it. I wasn't exactly used to discussing my emotions out loud. "I'm feeling… disoriented, I suppose."

"Emotionally dizzy?" Jasper suggested.

"That's it exactly. I was calm around you, and then when I drove away, I felt so incredibly suspicious that I was coming up with all sorts of scenarios."

"Such as?"

"I… I suppose my imagination got a little carried away. I was even wondering if you might be deadening our instincts so that a newborn army could attack."

Emmett's booming laugh filled the room. "That's very creative," Jasper said with a one-sided smile. "So you're wondering why your emotions were so volatile, after getting out of my range?"

"Yes. I was calm, then outrageously suspicious, then calm again, then angry, then…"

"I felt the same way," Rosalie admitted, "when we went shopping. Like my emotions were confused."

Jasper nodded. "It happens sometimes, when a person has been under my constant influence, and then suddenly leaves my range. I think of it as emotional kickback. My apologies."

"He really didn't mean any harm," Alice reminded us. "He was just being overprotective."

"I know," Emmett said cheerfully. "I would probably do the same thing if it was me and Rose. I mean, if I had a gift like that. How does it work, anyway? Like how do you make someone feel calm?"

Jasper shrugged. "I don't know. How do I do it, Edward? You've seen my mind in action."

"Yes, but I didn't know what I was seeing at the time- and you obviously did a good job of not thinking about what you were doing. I'm curious to see you influence someone again, now that I know what I'm looking for."

"Do me!" Emmett said eagerly.

Jasper smiled, shaking his head. "I can't say that I've ever had someone _ask_ to be manipulated before."

"_Influenced_," Alice corrected gently. "And yes, you have. Remember when we first met, and I asked you to show me?"

"And I said no," Jasper said, looking uncomfortable.

"Why?" Rosalie asked.

"I'm used to thinking of my gift as a weapon," he explained. "I don't like using it on Alice, or anyone I care about. I guess I've never really associated anything positive with my ability. And I assumed that once Carlisle knew the truth, he would forbid me from using it, anyway, except when he ordered me to."

"You use it on me sometimes," Alice reminded him. "And like Carlisle said, your gift is a part of who you are. It's not something to be ashamed of. Or hide, now that you see how _right_ I was about the Cullens."

Jasper just smiled down at her, reaching to smooth away a stray lock of her hair. "Of course you were right," he murmured. "You always are." It was so strange to see the change that Alice's presence had wrought in Jasper; the hardened soldier had melted away, softened into a man whose every thought was bent on his mate's happiness. Even his posture was different; instead of holding himself stiff and aloof, he was now Alice's shadow. The only difference from earlier was that his hovering watchfulness was more attentive than protective.

"I'm ready," Emmett reminded him.

Jasper nodded. I saw the brighter effort of his gift flare slowly to life, but nothing else seemed to be happening- and to my disappointment, I couldn't observe anything in his mind other than the fact that his gift was active, and the fact that he was focusing intently on my brother. I couldn't even guess which emotion he was emitting.

"Nothing's happening," Rosalie said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Emmett coughed out a sudden laugh, and then another, and another, until he was roaring with laughter.

"It's just so _funny_!" Emmett said, gasping between guffaws.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Everything!" he gasped. Speaking seemed to be funny, as well, and he started laughing even harder. Rosalie was frowning, but the very corner of her lips were beginning to twitch upwards as she watched Emmett fall off the couch. I was already smiling; Emmett _himself_ was pretty funny.

"Humor?" I asked, turning to Jasper.

"Amusement," Jasper corrected. The extra activity in his brain stopped, but Emmett's laughter continued for almost ten seconds before dying down.

He grinned, nodding to Jasper enthusiastically. "That was _awesome_."

"That was a pretty extreme effort," Jasper admitted. "I'm usually far more subtle. Well, Edward?"

"I couldn't see much," I admitted. "I can easily tell now when you're 'turning on' your influence, and I could tell that you were focused on Emmett, but that's all. I wasn't even sure which emotion you were sending, until it was obvious to everyone. How are you able to do that without thinking the word 'amusement' or 'laugh' or something like that?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "I know don't. How are you able to read minds? How is Alice able to call up visions? Our gifts are ruled by instinct. I didn't have to think to myself, 'I will now send Emmett amusement'_. _I just _made_ him feel amused, that's all."

"Just like when I have a vision," Alice said, her high-pitched voice drawing everyone's eyes downward to her. "The kind I have on purpose, I mean. I don't think to myself 'I will now look seven seconds into Edward's future'. I just… reach for it, you know?"

Alice's vision swirled, and my face morphed into… my face again, but this time I was speaking.

_I mean my gift is passive. At least, that's what Eleazar…_

"I get it," I said slowly. "I think. Although my gift is more like the sensory side of Jasper's, or the visions that come to you unbidden."

"What do you mean?" Jasper asked.

"I mean my gift is passive. At least-" I paused, looking with Alice in wry amusement as I fulfilled her "seven seconds ahead" vision, from seven seconds ago. "That's very distracting, Alice."

"I was just making a point!"

"What?" Rosalie asked.

"Nothing. Anyway, "passive" is the word Eleazar used for it. I hear people's thoughts without making any effort at all, much less thinking about making the effort."

"I thought you had to make an effort to hear people that are more than a mile away," Rosalie said.

"Yes… that's true. And I have to make an effort to focus on a certain mind, like when I'm in a crowd. But in both those cases, I have to agree with Alice and Jasper; I don't think the words 'I must extend my ability to hear a mind which may be approximately two miles out'. Like Alice said, I just sort of reach for it, without thinking about the reaching, per se. And Alice, I'd like you to try something. I want you to-"

_-purposely call up a vision…_

"-purposely call… stop that!" I growled at her.

_But it was your fault that time!_ Alice protested mentally.

"How was that _my_ fault?"

"How was what was your fault?" Rosalie hissed.

_Rosalie's getting annoyed_, Jasper thought to me.

"I can tell," I said, rolling my eyes. "It happens often enough."

"TIME OUT!" Emmett shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. "Us regular people are getting confused by all you… you gifted people. Now slow down, and let's all talk out loud, and in the same time zone!"

"Sorry," Jasper, Alice and I chimed together, and then we all started laughing, looking at each other curiously. Rosalie and Emmett just looked at each other, frowning.

"That's not true," Jasper said suddenly.

"What's not true?" I asked.

"Rosalie and Emmett are both feeling inferior," he explained. "But you don't need to feel that way. Having a gift is often more trouble than it's worth."

"Agreed," I sighed.

"_Not_ agreed!" Alice said firmly.

"I was _not_ feeling inferior!" Rosalie hissed.

"Yes, you were," Jasper said, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Well, _I'm_ feeling inferior," Emmett said easily. "I feel like a... a _human_ next to you three!"

"Sorry!" Alice chirped. "Okay, what happened was that Edward was getting distracted because I kept peeking ahead in the conversation."

"And it creates a mental echo that is extremely annoying," I continued, "especially when it's of myself saying something."

"I'll _try_ not to do that," Alice sighed. "Esme and Rosalie explained it to me earlier… I mean that it's sort of rude to peek ahead and interrupt people. But it really was your fault that last time, Edward! You said 'Alice, I'd like you to try something'. How am I supposed to _not_ peek ahead when you say something like that?"

I frowned down at her, folding my arms across my chest. "By not _doing_ it, I imagine."

"Be reasonable, Edward," Jasper protested. "Nobody tells you when you can read minds or not, after all, do they?"

"No, it's all right," Alice sighed. "I guess I never thought about that before… the echo thing. I'm just used to it."

"Are you telling me that you _always_ listen ahead like that in conversations?" I asked.

"Sure!" she said with a shrug. "It's just that I've never had a conversation with anyone except Jasper before."

"Weren't you… lonely?" Emmett asked.

"Of course I was," Alice said. "But I had all of you to keep me company. And once I got really good at watching you in real time- just seconds ahead, I mean- then it was like watching a television show. I could even change the channels, if you were all in different places."

"That's creepy," Rosalie muttered. "Are you _sure_ that you give us… you know, privacy?" _Ugh! The thought of her just being able to see ANYTHING…._

"That's pretty funny coming from you, Rosalie," I said. "You love to complain about how you never have any mental privacy around here, but have you ever thought about how little privacy you and Emmett give _me_? Do you think I _enjoy_ listening to all your little spur-of-the-moment rendezvous? And I don't have the luxury of changing the channel!"

Jasper tensed as Rosalie stepped closer to me, and Alice peeked ahead nervously.

_If you don't like it, then why don't you just leave?_

"Don't you dare say that, Rosalie!" Alice hissed. Her spritely features had suddenly turned fierce- if someone that tiny could be considered fierce.

"Say what?" Emmett asked.

"Never mind," Rosalie growled. I just rolled my eyes, turning away from her.

"That's interesting," Jasper said. "Rosalie, why were you feeling-"

"Never mind, Jazz," Alice said, quickly laying a hand on his arm. "And yes, Rosalie, I do give as much privacy as I can. You'll just have to trust me on that."

Rosalie sighed sharply, but nodded. "All right. And Edward, this is my home. I have the right to relax with my husband without having to worry about offending _your_ sensibilities!"

"It's _my_ home too," I growled. "Though if you had your way…"

She gritted her teeth. "I didn't mean that!"

"Sounded like it to me."

Jasper glanced back and forth between us curiously. _Are you two always like this?_

"We have our moments," I muttered.

_Well, she was telling the truth a second_ _ago. About not meaning… whatever it was._

I turned back to Rosalie, my anger dropping quickly. "Really? Interesting."

"What's interesting?" Emmett growled. "If you people don't start talking out loud soon…"

"New subject," I suggested loudly, eager to clear the air. "Paint color. As I said before, I prefer light blue. And mind the-"

"Hold it!" Emmett said, sticking his hand in my face. "Are those all the bags you ladies have?" he asked, nodding down to Alice's purchases.

"No," Rosalie said. "The rest are still in the car."

"How many, exactly?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know. Fifteen?"

"HA!" Emmett roared. "I win! Pink it is!"

"We never agreed to that clause," I protested. "Light blue."

For once, Alice was the one looking confused. "You win what? And what's pink and blue?" _See, Edward, I'm learning. I didn't peek ahead this time, even though I REALLY want to. __Emmett is even funnier in person!_

"You didn't see our bet earlier?" Jasper asked her.

"No. I can't watch _all_ the time. What bet?"

"The three of us had a wager on how many shopping bags you would bring home," I sighed. "The losers have to paint my new room, and Jasper and I just lost. For what purpose could you possibly bring home nineteen bags of _anything_?"

"But some of it's for you!" Alice said, pouting.

"And we have two people here who needed pretty much _everything_," Rosalie said. "I think nineteen bags is the picture of restraint."

Alice swept up the four bags she had already brought in. "Come on, Jasper," she said. "I want to show you what we got!" Jasper grinned down at her enthusiasm and allowed himself to be led up the stairs at lightning speed.

"And I need to go find something," Emmett said, turning to go. _And no cheating, Edward! This is going to be a surprise. _ He switched to thinking in German as he ran out.

"No cheating," I promised. "But I already know German."

"Gaelic?" he shouted from the attic.

"Go for it," I called back, smiling. I was doing my best to keep out of his head, though I was curious. Emmett had a way of turning even the most awkward situation into a comfortable one. As soon as the family had voted to let Alice and Jasper stay, he had begun thinking of ways to help Jasper learn to relax around us; Alice didn't seem to need any help in that area.

"That's nice of you," Rosalie said.

"What?"

"You didn't have to tell him to switch languages. You could have just listened and found out whatever it is he's doing, and he never would have known. But you were honest, and respected his privacy when he asked you to."

I turned to face my sister, raising an eyebrow. "Was that an _apology_, Rosalie?"

"I guess so. You know I didn't mean that, right? About you leaving?"

Instead of answering her, I went to the piano and sat down. I always found these sorts of awkward conversations easier when I had my hands on the keys. I began to quietly play Esme's song; one of my more peaceful compositions. "I know. Though I wouldn't blame you if you did mean it."

"Well, I didn't."

I played another two measures before stopping, and turning around on the seat to face her. "Rosalie, now that our emotions are back to normal again, I want to tell you how sorry I am. About… yesterday. You didn't deserve any of that."

She nodded her thanks. _Keep playing, please._ I turned around and resumed my song, and gladly. "When did you know?" she asked.

"When did I know what?"

_That he changed me for you._

"He hid it from me at first. You were almost a month old when he finally let it slip."

"And…" She didn't want to ask it; she knew she wouldn't like the answer. But she was dying to know. _And what did you say?_

I sighed, leaning into the keys as though the music could erase the mistake I had made yesterday. There was no way to speak honestly about this without hurting her further. My exact response to Carlisle had been that she was the last woman of my acquaintance with whom I would have wanted to share eternity. I had been _angry_ at him. It hadn't occurred to me at the time to be angry on _her_ behalf. "I told him I wasn't interested."

She sank down onto the couch, her clenched fists in her lap. I kept playing, pretending I couldn't hear every self-pitying thought that was going through her mind. She was thinking about how her choices had always been taken away by the men in her life. How her human father had pushed her into Royce's path. How Royce and his friends had taken her virginity and her life. How Carlisle had stolen her escape into death and her humanity, forcing her into a living death that she never would have wanted. How he had done it for another man, me- and I hadn't even wanted her. How I had taken away her freedom to think in peace. And now here was Jasper, come to take away her emotional privacy as well, and manipulate her heart however he saw fit.

I couldn't take any more after that. I had tried to stay out of it, to keep my mouth shut, but this was ridiculous. My fingers crunched down on the keys in a dissonant protest. "Rosalie," I said through my teeth. "For God's sake, _listen_ to yourself!"

"You don't know what it's like," she whispered. "To have everything taken away from you like that."

I spun around, slamming my hand down on the keys again as I stood. "Look," I hissed. "I'm not saying I understand, about what Royce did to you. I can never understand, and on behalf of the entire male population of the earth, I'm _sorry_, all right? But do you really have to go into a mental tirade about how every man you've ever met has ruined your life? Don't you think you're _forgetting_ someone?"

She just blinked, her mind coming up empty. She had no clue was I was talking about!

"Here's a hint," I whispered fiercely, glancing up at the ceiling to make sure Emmett was still in the attic. "You're married to him."

"Oh." _That's different._

I barked out a laugh. "Different, yes. He only _lives_ to make you happy, even though he knows he'll never succeed. How do you think it makes him feel, every time you go on one of your pity parties? When you make it blatantly obvious to everyone listening that he will never be enough for you?"

"I-"

"And you know what the _real_ irony is?" I continued. "That Emmett was changed _for_ someone, just like you were. And whose idea was _that_?"

Rosalie drew in a sharp breath, intending to scream at me. But instead, she blew it out again in a rush as she, too, glanced up at the ceiling. "He's happy."

"He's happy because he has _you_," I said. "It's a shame you can't manage to return the favor."

"It's not the same thing," she whispered.

"No?"

"The person who Emmett was changed for _wanted_ him." She clenched her fists together now, her face twisted into stone as she tried not to cry. I had done it again. I had hurt her. _Again_. I crossed the room in a flash, sitting beside her on the couch.

"Rosalie… you and me, it wouldn't have… I mean…" I closed my eyes, racking my brain for something to say. What was I _supposed_ to say? I'm sorry for not worshipping you like everyone else? I'm sorry for not taking advantage of the incredible gift that Carlisle tried to give me that day in 1933? "You know I've never seen you as anything but my sister," I said finally. "That doesn't mean I don't, you know, love you. Couldn't you tell how glad I was when you two came back home?"

She shrugged. "I suppose."

"And you and I have been getting along so well this time," I pointed out. "Until I shot off my mouth yesterday, and-"

"Don't worry about it," she interrupted. "I guess I had to find out the truth sometime."

"And besides" I added. "Carlisle didn't just change you for me. He did it to save _you_, as well."

"I know," she said to her hands. "And I know it wouldn't have worked… you and me, I mean. And now," she added, glancing up at the ceiling meaningfully. "I'm glad we never tried. I am happy with him, Edward. You _know_ I am."

"No, I don't know that. And I'd wager he doesn't know it, either."

For once, Rosalie listened to me. She was silent for a moment, reviewing all the things she had said in anger last night. _I guess I see your point. I'll talk to him, all right? I'll __make sure he understands how happy I am with him. "_Because I _am_ happy," she insisted out loud. "I just don't bounce around singing like Alice does. Is that such a crime?"

"No," I said, smiling at her. "I think one Alice is more than enough to go around."

"Don't you like her?"

I shrugged. "I don't know yet. It's just going to take some getting used to… her mental voice is very, ah, high-pitched. And those _visions_…" I shrugged again. "That is definitely going to take some getting used to. And the echoes."

"Well, I like her. We had a really good time when we were out tonight. She's a little strange, but very sweet and friendly. I just never thought I'd have a sister!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I cautioned. "Getting used to Alice is one thing, but…" I checked briefly, to make sure that Alice and Jasper weren't listening. Or _watching_, in Alice's case. "What do you think of Jasper? I mean now, that the emotional confusion is over."

She thought for a moment. "I guess he's all right… he seems pleasant, now that he's not doing the thing with his gift. Though it's creepy, the way he just stands there and listens, like he's going to run off at any moment. And I don't think I'll be trusting him anytime soon. Have you heard anything, you know, bad? In his thoughts?"

I smirked back at her. "Are you asking me to spy, using my gift? To betray someone's mental privacy?"

_Edward! This is important. I know you don't trust him either. Now, have you heard anything we should be worried about?_

"I haven't heard much _good_ about his past, if that's what you mean. But honestly, I can't fault him for anything he's done… at least not so far. He really didn't know that there was any other way to live. I haven't seen anything to be concerned about. I'll keep an ear out, of course. But to be honest, Rosalie, he mostly thinks about Alice. I've never seen that level of mental focus before, between a vampire and his mate. Not even in Carlisle."

"Is Alice the same way? Focused completely on Jasper, I mean?"

"Yes… and no. Her visions are bent on him, but she's also going in a hundred different directions, now that she's here. She really has been waiting for this day for her entire life… what she remembers of it, anyway. Jasper's… well, he's glad he's here, for Alice's sake. I think that's the only reason, though."

Rosalie frowned. "That's sad. If he's going to be sticking around, he's going to have to come to grips with being a part of a family."

"That's where I come in, babe," Emmett announced as he sauntered back into the room. _Operation Relax-Jasper is officially underway_. There was a mysterious clatter as he deposited something behind Carlisle's chair, hiding it from view. At the same moment, Alice and Jasper appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Jasper looked very well in his new white dress shirt and sweater vest, but he was wearing what looked like waist overalls.

"That's an interesting choice," I said, nodding toward Jasper. "Getting back into your cowboy days?"

Jasper smoothed down the rough fabric, looking slightly self-conscious. "Just because I'm from Texas, doesn't mean I was a cowboy," he said, drawing out his accent.

"And we have some for you and Emmett, and Carlisle, too!" Alice said, bouncing off the last step onto the floor. "They're the newest thing, and Esme thinks they'll be good for hunting. She even ordered some for all us girls."

"Which I am _not_ wearing," Rosalie announced.

"Neither am I," I said, wrinkling my nose. Why would I want to wear pants made out of something so uncomfortable?

"Oh, yes you are!" Alice laughed. "I've seen it. And they're going to be called 'jeans' soon. I saw myself reading a magazine, and there was an ad for them. Come on, Edward, go try yours on!"

"I would just give in now," Jasper advised solemnly.

"No."

"I'll try mine," Emmett said. "But as soon as Carlisle and Esme get home, we're all heading outside for a game."

"Vampire Olympics?" Jasper asked curiously, remembering the stories that Emmett had told him earlier.

"Olympics! Ha! That was back before this family was big enough to play some real sports." Emmett reached down behind the chair and flipped something through the air toward our newcomers. Jasper caught it easily, smiling in wonder as he brought up his other hand and curled his fingers onto the grip.

"Olympics nothing," Emmett said. "We're playing _baseball_."


	14. Who's On First?

**Sorry this one took longer than usual! I have a pretty good idea of the events/conversations I want to get to in the next ten or so chapters (yes, I said ten LOL) but I'm having some difficulty nailing down the order of events. Also, there are now seven Cullens; that's twenty-one relationships to manage!**

**This chapter is a fun one, as I'm sure you can tell from the title. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

I did go put on the jeans, but I only did it for Rosalie. She had been thinking how funny it would be to see all the men in their cowboy pants, and so I obliged her, as a peace offering. I felt ridiculous coming back downstairs in the stiff, scratchy fabric; what human would ever wear these things willingly?

"Lookin' good," Emmett whistled as my foot hit the floor. He had already donned his, and he had somehow gotten Jasper to play catch with him in the living room while we waited for Carlisle and Esme to return.

"Told you," Alice sang under her breath, grinning at me. "You look _great_!"

Jasper dropped the baseball, only to pick it up in a flash and throw it back to Emmett. His thoughts hadn't skipped a beat, but his teeth were clenched as he caught the ball again. Alice didn't seem to notice anything, though.

"Will you play the piano again, Edward?" she asked. "I heard Esme's song earlier, while I was upstairs."

I sat and began to play the piece again. Emmett and Jasper kept tossing the ball over my head while Rosalie and Alice drew closer to the piano. Alice was humming along with the melody, but up the octave. She was remembering the times she had watched me play this song before. It was a little unnerving, especially when she pictured me playing it back at the house in Montana. My fingers stiffened on the keys as I realized what I was seeing; the living room was dark and my hair was a ragged mess, my eyes orange. Carlisle and Esme were standing at my shoulders, much closer than they would normally stand, and Carlisle's hand rested on my right shoulder. It was the night I had returned home. Now that Jasper was done calming me, my fingers stiffened further as I remembered seeing the pages of my journal in Alice's memory.

How much did this girl know about me?

.

.

.

Carlisle and Esme were home in less than an hour, their arms filled with the rest of the shopping bags from the car.

"Finally!" Emmett called, throwing the baseball right toward them. Carlisle dropped all his bags and caught the ball, looking at it curiously.

"Emmett has decided that we're all going to play baseball," I explained from the piano.

Carlisle grinned, tossing the ball to Jasper. _I thought he might come up with something like that._ "Sounds good to me. But, Emmett, where did you get the equipment? We've never played baseball before."

"Last year, when Rose and I were in New York. Some of the men I worked with had a Saturday league, and I played for a while."

"_You_ played, with humans?" Esme asked worriedly. "Didn't they notice anything different about you?"

"Hey, I'm not a newborn anymore," Emmett said, pouting dramatically. "I can tone it down when I need to. And besides, I just stayed home on sunny game days."

"Of course, Emmett 'toning it down' was still a lot for them to take in," Rosalie said proudly. I smiled along with her at the memory: she was sitting on a set of bleachers with all the other wives, cheering Emmett on and feeling human. Of course, it wasn't perfect: many of the other women had baby carriages beside them, and Rosalie had to keep peeking up at the sky to be sure it was safe to stay. It was always that way for her: the times when she was able to feel the most human were also the times when she felt the most alien. But she dashed the thought from her mind, refusing to indulge in a "pity party", as I had called it earlier tonight. Instead, she zipped over to Emmett's side, hooking her arm through his. "But this time," she told him softly as she looked up at him, "I get to play, too."

He grinned widely, picking her up and swinging her around in a circle. _Now that's my girl._ "You'll be my angel in the outfield," he promised, setting her back down.

"But how can we play, with just seven?" Esme asked. "I thought baseball teams had nine players."

"We'll improvise," Emmett said. "We don't really need three basemen, or even a shortstop- we're faster than the ball, anyway."

"That's true," Carlisle said. "Although the ball might be travelling faster than some of _us,_ if we're pitching and hitting with our full strength. I have to confess, I've never played baseball before."

"Only because you were British," Rosalie guessed. "You must have played cricket."

"No, not even that. My father wouldn't allow it. What about you, Jasper? Have you ever played?"

Jasper closed his eyes, straining to bring his human memories into focus. "Yes, I think so. In the army… the Confederate Army, I mean." He picked up one of the bats again, flipping it end over end at lightning speed. "I don't actually recall having ever played, myself. But the bat feels familiar to my hands, and I remember keeping a baseball in my pack."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Emmett said, snatching the bat away from Jasper. "Let's go find ourselves a ball field."

.

.

.

It was decided that we shouldn't use any of the municipal fields. We didn't want to have to hold back in any way, and Carlisle was worried about destroying the field, as well as making too much noise. It was better, he said, if we made our own field. Emmett readily agreed, his mind spinning with "vampire modifications" he could make to his favorite sport. We decided to go on foot, so we could all stay together. Jasper grew uncomfortable every time we got near any roads, and Alice was on high alert during those times, as well. We would need to do something to help Jasper with his control, and soon.

Carlisle led us to an open space he had found once while hunting. It was tucked away in the emptiness outside of Strafford. The area was marshy enough to be isolated, but we found a good piece of land dry enough to play on. None of us had thought to bring anything to serve as bases.

"Time to improvise," Emmett said. "I guess we'll just tear away the grass in those spots, to mark it. Here's home plate, anyway." He knelt down and swiped away the grass near his feet, creating a patch of dirt in the appropriate shape. I darted off to the right, doing my best to guess where first base should be.

"Not there!" Emmett called. "This is _vampire_ baseball. I think the bases should be at least twice the normal length apart."

I ran forward again, glancing back at him. He waved me on further and further, finally giving me a thumbs up. Carlisle and Esme made the other bases, and Emmett moved to the center of the field, digging up enough dirt to make a pitcher's mound. It was decided that us "talents" should be divided between the teams. It was Emmett, Rosalie and me against Carlisle, Alice, Esme and Jasper.

"It doesn't seem fair to have four against three," Esme protested. "Especially when our team has two talents."

"But our team has _me_," Emmett said.

"Just because you're the size of two of us doesn't make you two players," I snorted.

"I meant I'm the only one who knows what he's doing," Emmett growled. "And besides, Esme, _both_ teams have two talents each, because Edward can see Alice's visions."

"That's true," I admitted. And it's not like Jasper's talent will be much use in baseball, anyway."

"On the contrary," Carlisle said, "I think he should be allowed to use the full power of his gift in the game. You can't help using yours, at any rate."

"Is that… all right?" Jasper asked him. Carlisle nodded.

"Let's see how it turns out," he replied. "It may give our team too much advantage, in the end, since you're the only one with an offensive gift. But I'm curious to see that gift in action, Jasper. And remember, I don't want you to feel that you have to limit your abilities while you're around us. I only ask that you be courteous and forthright about your influence." He glanced meaningfully over to Rosalie, and Jasper nodded in understanding.

"I have an idea," I added. "Esme, why don't you act as a designated catcher for both teams? That'll make things more even, and the batting team doesn't really need four, unless the bases are loaded."

Esme readily agreed, admitting that she hardly knew any of the rules anyway. We all laughed as Emmett tried to teach her the posture that catchers usually assumed. "I'm wearing a _dress_, Emmett," she protested, kneeling down in a more ladylike position. Emmett argued the point for a few minutes, but Esme won that one, promising that she would wear slacks next time.

"Too bad our jeans aren't ready yet," Alice pouted. "Or maybe we could make uniforms somehow."

"Uniforms," I snorted. "That'll be the day. Where do you want me, Emmett?"

"Definitely outfield, since you're the fastest. I guess you'll have to cover the whole thing by yourself. No, wait…" Emmett looked around the field, imagining different scenarios. "I think you should take left field, and Rosalie first base. That way she can move back to right field if needed, and you can move in to third if needed. I'll pitch, and I'll fall back to second base if it comes to it."

Carlisle was up to bat first. Emmett grinned devilishly as he spun the ball between his fingers. _It'll be nice not to have to hold back_, he thought smugly. He wound up and sent the ball flying at roaring speed. Carlisle swung, but instead of hearing a satisfying hit, the air around him crunched with splinters as the ball tore right through the bat.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. He turned around to see Esme smiling up at him, holding the ball in her hand.

"Does that count as a hit or a strike?" Alice asked, her eyes twinkling.

Emmett frowned, scratching his head. "Didn't think of that," he muttered. "I've got one bat left, but it's just going to break if we try that again. Guess we'll have to play at human speed." _Man…_

"No we don't," I called from left field. "We just need a stronger bat, is all."

"How?" Jasper asked. "Bats are always wooden."

"Not in the Vampire League," I said grandly. "I have an idea. Give me ten minutes."

"And get something for the bases!" Emmett called as I started running.

"Ten minutes, to the house and back?" Jasper asked doubtfully. "But we're at least ten miles away. He can't run _that_ fast, can he?"

"Just watch," Esme said proudly.

I grinned, eager to show off my speed to our newcomers. I zoomed away at my top speed, feeling a surge of pride as Jasper gasped in awe. It was nice to be able to impress him with _something_. Whether he would truly end up being my new brother or not, I still felt a boyish need to prove myself to him. I was used to being "the gifted one", as well as the one with the darkest past. Not that that was something to be proud of, but I supposed I had always thought of myself as the most worldly member of the family… the most experienced, at least in vampire terms. But I felt like a child next to Jasper, who not only had a powerful supernatural gift of his own, but a long history of military achievements… and of violence.

Emmett had been my brother from the moment Rosalie had convinced Carlisle to change him. And we had always gotten along well. We were so different in terms of personality that we had always complemented each other. But Jasper… I still wasn't sure what to think. Like everyone else, I was inclined to trust him, and was feeling more comfortable around him as the night wore on. It wasn't a given that he and his mate were going to stay- even though Alice's visions were now crystal clear on that count, I knew they could change. Jasper himself was relaxing more and more in our company, and constantly reminding himself that he could trust us. I supposed that most of my remaining discomfort stemmed from the fact that Jasper was so completely Emmett's opposite… so like _me_, in fact, that I wasn't sure how to handle him. And yet I had been the one to defend him earlier tonight. I had done it for Esme and Carlisle, more than anything: Esme, because she was obviously falling in love with our visitors already, and Carlisle, because I knew how much he would regret it if he turned them away without giving them a fair chance. I supposed I had really believed everything I said, though. Even with the rocky start Jasper and I had had, I truly admired the choices he had made, once he knew he had them.

And then there was Alice: she was the real mystery. Why couldn't she remember anything about her human life? Her situation was so unique. She had literally been alone most of her life, at least the second part of it. Yet in a way, she had been "living" with our family for years: a silent, invisible guest who was privy to secrets we would have preferred to keep private, at least until we knew her better. How much _had_ she seen? Had she watched me kill? The thought turned my stomach. I already had hundreds of images of myself as the red-eyed villain burned into my infallible memory: the memories of my victims in their final moments. And too often, I was plagued by my own memories of _their_ faces. It was torture enough to have to carry those memories around with me.

But the idea that someone had been _watching_ me was unbearable. The idea that Alice had seen my monster in action, that _she_ was carrying around those same images… it made me feel exposed. It made me feel guiltier, in a way. But then I remembered Alice's peculiar assurance: _Don't worry about it. I love you anyway. _I wondered if she had known the whole time that I would return home. I wondered how much she had seen of Carlisle's and Esme's grief while I was away. And I was still more than a little suspicious of the timing of her and Jasper's arrival today. _Had_ she seen my choice to leave? Had she seen my true intentions, and could I trust her to keep them to herself? I supposed this was only fair; I had, after all, been the one to invade everyone else's privacy since my awakening. It was rather disconcerting, having the tables turned like this. I had never really needed to trust anyone with my _own_ secrets. Should I speak to Alice about my plans, and make sure she understood my desire to protect my parents from the pain I had been about to endure?

And would I still leave? I had decided earlier tonight to stay, in order to protect my family from the possible threat that our visitors presented. If they did stay, and I did come to feel comfortable leaving my family with them… _if they became family_, I corrected myself. If that day came, would I go ahead with my plans? At least that day was not today.

.

.

.

As soon as our house came into sight, I veered off to the right, slowing suddenly to a walk and opening the door to the garage. Esme had built this garage herself when we had moved here, in hopes that Rosalie would soon be returning home to use it. She had used steel beams for the frame, and she had saved three spare ones from the project; they would do nicely for our new baseball bats. The beams were laying along the wall furthest from the house. I chose the shortest one, tossing it out the open door before running into the house.

What to use for the bases?

I ran down into the basement, sweeping my eyes over the contents we had stored down here. I didn't want to take too much time; I was eager to see if I could make it back to the ball field in the ten minutes I had boasted. I decided to grab the stack of ceramic tiles Esme had left over from tiling the kitchen. They would probably be destroyed by the time the game was over, but they were just extras anyway. I leapt up the stairs in a single bound and headed back outside, scooping up the steel beam as I ran by it. It was awkward running with my baggage, but when I made it back to the others, Emmett whooped in triumph, pumping his fist in the air.

"Nine minutes and thirteen seconds!" he shouted, slapping Jasper on the back. Jasper tumbled into the dirt, but smiled good-naturedly as he leapt back up.

"I'm starting to think that betting against you is a bad idea, Emmett," he drawled.

"No, betting against _me_ is a bad idea," Alice said, poking her mate in the ribs. "I _told_ you Edward would make it!"

I grinned, tossing the steel beam to Emmett. "What was the bet?"

He caught the beam, hefting its weight experimentally and looking down its length. "Well, let's just say that I won't be mowing the lawn for a loooong time." _Ha!_

"Six months," Jasper muttered. Then he caught himself, glancing back at Carlisle. "I mean, if we stay that long," he added quickly. Carlisle just smiled slightly, keeping his eyes on Emmett.

"Well, Emmett, do you think you can make us a bat?" he asked.

Emmett was sitting on the ground, mumbling to himself about the conservation of momentum. He had already ripped off a chunk of the steel, and was now carefully pounding it between his hands into sheet metal. "Hand me that other bat, Esme." She tossed it to him, and he began wrapping the new sheet metal around the barrel, crimping and smoothing as he went. I busied myself with laying the new bases down, and assuring Esme that no, I had _not_ mutilated the kitchen floor in order to get them. It was a good thing I had brought five tiles: I had forgotten about home base being different from the others. It was a simple matter to score and break the extra tile into a triangle and lay it alongside a full tile. Not quite the right dimensions, but it would do.

"Why don't you just pinch off enough solid steel to hit the ball with?" Jasper asked Emmett as he worked. "Why use the wood at all?"

"A bat is supposed to be light," Emmet said, finishing the final revolution of steel around the bat. He laid his index finger alongside the barrel, running it up and down as his other hand slowly rotated the bat. He polished it again with his shirt, and swung it through the air at human speed. "We want it to be strong enough to withstand the force of a vampire pitch, but light enough to swing properly. We also want the ball to survive." He swung the bat at vampire speed this time, the metal whistling through the air.

"Ingenious," Jasper murmured.

"Emmett is our self-appointed sports expert," Carlisle said with a proud smile. "You should see the bowling set he made- and he was only a few weeks old at the time!"

Jasper just shook his head, smiling in wonder. _And here I thought I knew how to control newborns! _

Emmett held his hand up for the baseball, and Jasper tossed it to him. Physics equations were flying through Emmett's head as he tossed the ball up in the air to himself, swinging the bat as it came back down. Simultaneously, Alice darted toward the place where the ball would soon be heading.

When he hit the ball, the thunderous _CRACK_ that resulted literally shook the air in the clearing. Esme's and Rosalie's hands flew up to their ears, and Alice stumbled back a step as she caught the ball. Emmett held up the still-whole bat victoriously, and Alice pronounced the ball unhurt, as well.

"So much for being inconspicuous," Rosalie sighed. "I'll bet all the humans in a ten-mile radius heard that."

"Didn't think of that either," Emmett mumbled, frowning down at his invention.

"It's all right," Alice piped up. "There's a thunderstorm coming. Once the lightning and thunder starts, we can play again- it'll just sound like part of the storm."

Carlisle frowned, looking up at the sky. "There wasn't a storm in the forecast tonight. Are you sure, Alice?"

"Alice is always sure," Jasper said proudly. "Especially about the weather, since decisions aren't involved."

Alice just grinned, pointing to the watch that Esme had bought her tonight. She decided to check the watch again when the storm began, and saw the exact time in the new vision. "Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds until the first thunderclap," she announced smugly. _I should have gotten a watch years ago!_

We all looked up now. The sky was clear, dotted with stars. But then we noticed, far off in the west, a little blank spot where the stars were missing. We all watched in awe as the wind picked up over the next few minutes and the cloud spun itself larger and larger, until a promising stretch of darkness blotted out half of the stars. As we waited for the storm to begin, Emmett launched into a vampire-speed lecture on the rules of baseball. When he was just getting to this year's new rule regarding the height of the pitcher's mound, Alice interrupted him.

"Three… two… one…"

_BOOM!_

The thunderclap arrived right on schedule, bringing the first raindrops and a flash of lightning with it. Everyone cheered for Alice, and Carlisle just stared at her in wonder, his mind racing with possibilities. Alice's arrival, he realized, had brought us a whole new level of freedom: the ability to predict the weather with absolute certainty. Even when the forecast and the almanac "guaranteed" a cloudy day, we were still obliged to check the sky periodically; there were usually patches of sunlight even on the cloudiest days, and they could never truly be predicted… until now.

"Amazing," he whispered to himself.

"I'll say," I agreed, watching his mind carefully. I was waiting for him to think, _if they stay, _but he didn't. He appeared to be thinking along the same lines as the rest of us: this trial period would soon be over. I was surprised to discover that the thought pleased me. As uncertain as I felt about Alice and Jasper, I genuinely liked both of them. _Two_ brothers and _two_ sisters, then. What a week!

"Play ball!" Emmett shouted gleefully, holding the bat up in triumph as another thunderclap boomed. Rosalie, Emmett and I took our positions, and Jasper stepped up to the plate, swinging the new bat experimentally. Esme lowered herself into the mud behind him, still determined to kneel like a lady despite the weather.

Emmett wound up and sent the ball flying. Jasper swung too late, and the ball slapped harmlessly into Esme's hand. Another pitch, and a second strike.

"Stop playing like a human!" Emmett yelled to Jasper as he caught the ball. "There's no such thing as a fastball in vampire baseball. We only pitch _turbo_fastballs in this league!" He wound up again. Jasper gritted his teeth in concentration, his gift flashing to life as Emmett threw the ball. Jasper's hit was a thunderous crash, even louder than Emmett's practice hit had been earlier. The ball sailed right back toward the pitcher's mound, but instead of catching it, Emmett shrieked and ducked under the ball as it flew over his head into center field.

Jasper dropped the bat and ran for first base, and I took off like a shot after the ball. It was a thrilling chase; I had never actually run _after_ something before, at this speed. I had raced the vampires in my family, but there had never been much challenge with that. But the ball had gotten a head start on me, and the momentum of Jasper's hit must have been enormous, because it took me a full three seconds to catch up to it. I snatched the ball out of the air, just before it hit the ground. "Out!" I shouted back to the field. Emmett whooped in excitement, but Jasper kept running the bases. I threw the ball with all my might back to Esme, and raced back to left field. Jasper stopped on a dime on third base.

"That wasn't an out," he argued. "That ball was long gone. If anything, I should get a home run!"

"I agree," Carlisle said. "If this was a normal ball field-"

"Which it isn't," Emmett interrupted. "There aren't any boundaries in vampire baseball."

"Says who?" Jasper challenged, stepping closer to Emmett and baring his teeth. We all tensed for a second, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief, not malice. His gift was flashing again with activity. "You didn't mention that as a rule earlier, so it shouldn't count. And besides, you're keeping most of the human rules intact."

"Boys," Esme called in a warning tone. Jasper covered his teeth, but glared at Emmett still, his gaze intense.

Emmett shrunk visibly, his thoughts suddenly uncertain. "I guess you're right," he said sheepishly. "We should mark out-"

"Now just a minute," I interrupted. "Jasper, what did you just send Emmett there?"

"Doubt and guilt," he replied, looking at Carlisle for approval.

Carlisle chuckled, shaking his head. "And during the pitch? That was fear, correct?"

Jasper turned back to Emmett, looking smug. "You got it."

Emmett was shocked. "You mean I ducked because of your gift?" _I don't believe it!_

"_And_ screamed like a girl," I added cheerfully. Alice and Rosalie shrieked out their protests, and then laughed at themselves. "So Carlisle, what do you say? Was the rule valid, and was Jasper's influence legal?"

"I'll leave it all up to Emmett," Carlisle said. "He's in charge- as long as Jasper is done influencing him," he added with a wink. Jasper nodded, his gift quieting. "Though in my opinion, his influence during play was definitely legal."

Emmett rolled his shoulders, his confidence returning. "Well, that was… different," he admitted. "All right. The rule stands: no boundaries. But since I didn't announce the rule beforehand, Jasper's safe on third. But we keep it as played- no home run."

Jasper nodded politely.

"Now," Emmett continued, "I think Jasper should be barred from using his gift during all future rule discussions."

"Agreed," I said.

"And during play?" Jasper asked, crossing his arms.

"Fair game," Emmett said with a sigh. _But it won't work again- I'm onto him now! _"Who's up next?"

"I am!" Alice called, picking up the bat. "But you should tell everyone about the other new rule."

"What rule?" Emmett asked.

"No balls!" Alice replied. "If we don't hit it, it's a strike, period."

"Was I going to say that?" Emmett asked, grinning.

"Yep!"

Alice stepped up to the plate, looking like a little girl holding grown-up bat. She reached out with her gift, swinging at just the right moment. It was a grounder, and she just made it to first base as Rosalie made it back with the ball. Carlisle hit a pop fly, which Emmett caught. As the game went on, I was pleasantly surprised to unearth a few human memories of my own, thought they were quite fuzzy. I was playing on a grassy field, with a brick building behind me. I remembered the thrill of running and sliding into home plate. I was wearing a burgundy-colored jacket in the memory, and it looked like all the other boys were dressed the same way. I seemed to be shorter than now, but not by much. The other memory was even harder to get a hold of: playing baseball on a real field, but the baseball seemed much bigger in my hands in this one. Childhood?

I was the first one up to bat at the bottom of the first inning. I squeezed the grip and swung the bat a few times, surprised at how light it felt, compared to the human memories. Jasper was pitching now, and I could tell he was sending me something with his gift. I began feeling nervous and I missed the first time, swinging too early. Jasper's influence increased in intensity, but I kept breathing deeply, determined to thwart him even as my anxiety increased. The second pitch was a little high, but I adjusted my swing with time to spare, and felt the satisfying shock of slamming the bat into the ball. I started running at top speed, while in the corner of my eye I saw Carlisle zoom away out of right field.

I tore around the bases, watching Carlisle's progress through his eyes. Just as he dove for the ball to make the out, it bounced off a tree branch and hit the ground. As I rounded third and sprinted for home, I could hear Rosalie and Emmett shouting their encouragement. I flicked my eyes to the left, seeing the ball already sailing back toward Esme. I threw myself toward home plate, sliding the last twenty feet. My fingers snapped the tile in half just a hundredth of a second before I heard Esme catch the ball over my head.

"Safe!" she yelled. Everyone cheered for me, and for the first home run in vampire history. I jumped up and whooped in victory as well, brushing the worst of the mud off of my jeans. I was surprised to see that the tough fabric had actually survived the slide. Maybe jeans weren't so bad after all.

The rain got heavier after that, which only made the game more fun. Our physical perfection tended to limit our enjoyment of sports, but as the field turned into a giant puddle, we were finally able to make some mistakes, and even fall a few times. And I got an enormous amount of satisfaction out of seeing Rosalie get herself the filthiest she had ever been. She was also having the most fun I had ever seen her have, as well- which made my brother burst with pride over his baseball idea.

Things got really interesting in bottom of the eighth inning. Our team was down twelve to eleven, and Jasper was using his gift left and right- though his effectiveness was decreasing, as we learned to expect his interference. I was getting good at using Alice's visions to enhance my mind-reading, and Carlisle was turning out to be the most powerful batter, despite his strength being less than Emmett's. But the biggest surprise of all was Alice, who turned out to be a natural on the pitcher's mound.

There were two outs, and Rosalie was up to bat. I was on third base, inching toward home as Alice wound up. But she caught me in her visions, and I dove back toward Carlisle, who caught the ball and tagged me just after I grabbed a shard of the broken rubble which had once been third base.

"Out!" Carlisle shouted, throwing the ball back to Alice.

"Not on your life!" I protested, holding up the jagged piece of tile for everyone to see.

"No, it's an out," Jasper argued from first base. "That shard was laying at least a foot outside where the original base was."

"The shard is still part of the base," I shot back. "And besides, the tiles were smaller than regulation bases in the first place."

Jasper zoomed up, appearing in my face. "It's an out," he said through his teeth. A growl rumbled in my own throat and I tensed, crouching slightly in warning. How dare he waltz into our family and-

"That's enough, Jasper," Carlisle said sharply. My anger began to fade, and I blinked. I hadn't noticed him influencing me that time.

"Sorry," Jasper said, backing away quickly. "I didn't mean-"

"No, it's all right," I told him. "Fair game, remember?" Jasper shot me a grin, and was back at first base in a blink. Carlisle just chuckled, kicking the stray shards of the base back into place; although some of them had floated away while we had been arguing. "Well, am I out or not?" I asked everyone. "We don't really have an umpire."

"_I'm_ the umpire!" Esme announced from home plate. "I'm the only one who's going to keep this bunch honest!"

"All right, ump," I laughed. "What's the call?"

"Well… I guess once we make better bases, this particular problem won't come up again. But for this time, I think Edward should be safe."

"Bad call!" Alice booed.

"It's only fair," Esme insisted. "As the left fielder and third baseman, Carlisle had every chance to scoop the shards back into place before now, and he didn't."

"True," Carlisle admitted. "Although I can't find some of the shards at all. What if a runner finds one next time that's half a mile away? Or carries a piece with them?" We all laughed at the absurdity of the situation, and resumed play. I never scored the run, in the end; Emmett slammed the next hit right back into Alice's waiting hands, and that was that.

The other team didn't score again. When I was up to bat in the final inning, Alice rotated her decisions and visions between three different pitches at such an alarming rate that she struck me out easily. Emmett got a hit that would be considered foul in human terms, but it ended up not mattering, because Jasper caught it half a mile away. Rosalie got a clean hit out to center field, and Jasper and Carlisle both went for the ball, crashing into each other with a deafening thunderclap as the ball fell harmlessly to the ground behind them. Rosalie easily made it to home plate, and everyone rushed over to congratulate her.

"Stop it, Jasper," she giggled, accepting Alice's attack-hug.

"Stop what?" he asked, wrinkling his brow.

"That's not you?" _ I don't think I've ever had this much fun before. __I feel amazing!_

"That's because you _are_ amazing," I insisted. "You just scored the first female home run in vampire history!" She smiled back at me just as Emmett scooped her up and tossed her into the air, laughing. Jasper did send her something then, and she screamed in delight as she tumbled back down into Emmett's arms.

Things were really heating up now. It was tied at the bottom of the ninth, and we had two outs. Jasper was staring at me as I stepped up to the plate, clenching his jaw in concentration. My fear grew and grew, and I flinched as the ball flew passed me for the first strike.

"Good work, Jasper!" Carlisle called. "Hit him even harder next time!"

"Come on, Edward!" Rosalie shouted from behind me. "Don't let him get to you!"

I ground my teeth against my fear, but Jasper ramped it up even higher. This time the ball seemed to roar in fury as Alice sent it towards me, and I actually jumped out of the way as it slapped into Esme's hand.

"COME ON!" Emmett roared. "You can do this!"

I took a deep breath, but Jasper's eyes were wide with effort now. My deep breath turned into a gasp of terror, and I began to hyperventilate. Alice wound up for the pitch, showing me thirty baseballs coming at me at once in her imagination. I growled with effort, focusing only on Emmett's and Rosalie's shouts of encouragement. I closed my eyes as the ball attacked, using Esme's viewpoint for the swing instead of my own.

_CRACK!_

Four bases flew under my feet before I even took my next breath. I slammed right into Esme, and we tumbled into the mud together in a heap. Rosalie screamed and kissed Emmett, while the others rushed in to offer their congratulations. I stood, grinning, and pulled my mother up with me; she was covered from head to toe, and all our cheers turned to laughter. Carlisle cleaned off her face as best he could and kissed her, setting off another round of laughter as he grimaced and pulled away from the taste.

"Wait," I said, squinting off into the rain. "Where's the baseball?"

"Gone," Emmett boasted. "You knocked it clean out of New Hampshire, bro!"

"Actually, we don't know which direction it went it," Carlisle admitted. "We couldn't even see it."

"_I_ know where it is," Alice said smugly. _And no cheating, Edward! I need to learn some more languages for times like this. Maybe Emmett will teach me Gaelic! _

"I'll bet I can learn it first," I challenged. "Now where's the ball?"

"Learn _what_?" Emmett growled.

"Five seconds!"

"Five seconds until what?" Esme asked.

Alice held up her watch, counting down aloud as her mind raced through the outfits that she had tried on earlier. "One!" she shouted, and we all jumped back into a larger circle as the baseball whistled back down to earth, crushing the last remains of home plate as it landed at our feet.

"Now _that's_ what I call baseball," Emmett said proudly.


	15. Adoption

**Thank you to EdwardsMate4ever for helping me out with the baseball stuff :)**

* * *

Over the next few days, we all did our best to make Alice and Jasper feel at home. The question of their "adoption" was not discussed aloud, but it was almost constant in everyone's thoughts. Alice was beyond confident now, and Esme was already beginning construction of the new bedroom: her quiet way of announcing her acceptance. I had assumed that I would be helping her with the project- it was going to be my new room, after all, and it wasn't like I had anything better to do.

But to everyone's surprise, Esme invited Jasper to be her assistant instead. He protested that he didn't know the first thing about construction, but she assured him that a vampire was capable of learning any trade he set his mind to. And so he threw himself into the task, eager to be of use. He did seem reluctant to disappear for hours at a time, away from Alice- who refused to be anywhere near the smell of cement- but she was more than happy to leave him in Esme's care. Rosalie was determined to "fix" her energetic hair, and they spent hours upon hours upstairs, experimenting with hair products, outfits, nail polish, and other mysteries. The two of them went shopping at least ten times in that first week.

Emmett continued with Operation Relax-Jasper, which included a sixteen-hour-long bowling match between the two of them and Carlisle, a shift in the garage with Rosalie, and Jasper's first lawn-mowing duty. When Jasper returned to help Esme again, Emmett busied himself by working on the equipment for our next baseball game. He made the bases by hand, and was constantly tweaking his design for the metal-plated bat.

Jasper also spent a lot of time with Carlisle during his three days home "sick". The two of them went hunting every time Jasper grew thirsty, but they also spent a lot of time in Carlisle's study, talking. I gave them as much privacy as I could, but it was difficult not to eavesdrop as Jasper told him more and more about his years in the Wars. It was a bleak tale.

But Carlisle also encouraged Jasper to recall as much as he could about his human life- everything from childhood memories, which were scarce, to his last two years, as a Confederate soldier. Those last memories seemed to be Jasper's favorites, and were the clearest. It made me think, too, about my last years as a human. I didn't remember much about school, or even about my human family. Most of what I recalled involved either practicing the piano, or my dreams about going off to war with my friends. I wondered, for the first time, what it would have been like if I had made it over to Europe, wearing the uniform. Judging by the statistics, I probably wouldn't have made it back at all.

Carlisle and I also spent some time trying to help Alice recover her human past. He would ask her leading questions, hoping to trigger dormant memories: Who was her favorite teacher? What color was her bedroom? What was her favorite food? What was her best friend's name? I watched her mind intently during these experiments, but neither Alice nor I ever found anything- not even a shadow of a memory. Carlisle was, in equal measure, frustrated and fascinated by this rare problem. It was an ironic balance: the girl who held the future in her grasp had absolutely no insight into her own past.

On Thursday evening, Alice, Emmett and I were watching the Yankees play the White Sox on television. Emmett and I were on the couch, with Alice perched up on the top of it behind us. I was rooting for the White Sox, like a faithful Chicagoan, and Emmett was cheering for the Yankees as loud as he could, just to annoy the Confederate soldier in the house. Alice was enraptured to be watching her first baseball game ever. It was boring, compared to our new way of playing, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. Emmett was playing with her gift as we watched, trying to get her to predict the final score. She was having more difficulty than we had expected; the final score kept "changing" based on the decisions made by the managers and the pitchers.

"Who's winning?" Jasper asked, coming up behind us.

"Yankees!" Emmett hooted.

"Damn Yankees," Jasper growled, his Southern accent thicker than usual. He scooped Alice up off the back of the couch and buried his nose in her neck. She screamed, squirming to get away from the drywall dust he was shedding all over her hair.

I winced, touching my throat. "Jasper, are you thirsty?"

He nodded. "Sorry. I was just coming to see if anyone's interested in joining me." Carlisle still hadn't brought up the idea of the blood challenges to him yet, since the issue of their adoption was still up in the air. And so two or three of us always went with him… just in case.

"Not me," Emmett mumbled, staring at the game. Yogi Berra was just rounding first base, having hit deep into right field.

I stood up slowly, scowling as I watched the Yankees get another two runs in: they were up by three now. "I'll go," I sighed. "This game's hopeless."

But Alice dragged Jasper out the door, mentally telling me to stay put. _I've hardly had any time alone with him all week. And besides, the White Sox are going to win!_ She showed me the final score, her vision crystal clear, unlike the other times.

I turned back to the game, interested again. "Chicago's going to win," I announced.

"No, they're not."

"Are too."

Emmett grinned at me. "Where'd you get this sudden faith? Alice?"

"Yes. She just had a vision of the new final score."

"So what? She had them winning back in the second inning, and then she lost it."

I shrugged. "Chicago, 6-5." I kept my face straight, trying not to grin as I reeled him in. This was too easy.

He sat up. "Oh yeah? Why don't you put your money where your mouth is? Ten bucks says the Yanks keep it."

I raised an eyebrow. "You want to bet against _Alice_?"

"Thirty bucks."

"I don't know," I said dramatically. "They creamed the Yankees back in May, and that bullpen is looking fierce. I wouldn't want to be accused of-"

He bared his teeth. "Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it, but not money. I'll wager my half of the painting job against, say, your next two months of lawn mowing." Jasper had already got out of his lawn-mowing duty during the game last night, though that bet hadn't been a sure thing, what with Alice out shopping. But I had been around Alice long enough to know what a 99% future looked like, versus an 80% future. I had this in the bag.

"All six months, or nothing." _Candy from a baby._

"Deal." Emmett and I bumped fists. Less than an inning later, I fell off the couch laughing as Jim Busby hit a three-run homer.

"They're not winning yet," Emmett said through his teeth.

Carlisle came downstairs in the middle of the eighth inning. "Where are Alice and Jasper?" he asked us.

"Hunting," Emmett and I said in unison.

Carlisle nodded. " Esme, Rosalie, would you come in the living room, please?"

The hammering sounds ceased instantly, and Esme appeared beside the couch. Rosalie zipped in half a second later, cleaning her oily hands with a rag. I leaned forward and switched the television off; Carlisle wanted to have a family meeting.

"This is the first chance we've all had to talk together… without our visitors," he announced. "I think I put you all on the spot last week, in front of them. Now that we've all spent some time together, I want to hear what you all have to say about the possibility of Alice and Jasper joining our family."

Emmett shrugged. "They're already part of it, as far as I'm concerned."

"For me, as well," Esme said warmly. "Alice is such a sweetheart. And Jasper needs a home so badly."

Everyone looked at Rosalie, wondering if she would protest. But she smiled, thinking of her new sister and brother; she was already using the words in her thoughts, though she hadn't said them out loud yet. "I'm fine with them staying forever," she announced. "Alice is great. And I have to admit, Jasper's growing on me. But something has got to be done about his control. And about his _appetite_. I don't want to spend the rest of eternity babysitting him- or taking him hunting twice a day, either."

"I'm not sure his appetite will be changing anytime soon," Carlisle said. "From what he's told me, his creator used blood as a reward for good performance in training and battle. He was raised, you might say, with an unhealthy dependence on very large amounts of human blood. I don't believe he ever went more than a day without feeding, during his first eighty years. And now that he's on the animal diet, his body seems to be constantly starved for blood. Whether that is because of his many years on human blood- and lots of it- or because of a more psychological reason, I can't say."

"What about the blood challenges?" Emmett asked.

Carlisle nodded, looking thoughtful. "Yes, I'd like to try that with him… I just wanted to give him some time to relax and get to know us, before suggesting anything like that. But we still haven't made our decision."

"Well, I'm fine with them staying," I said. "If we're all in favor, what's the problem?"

Carlisle took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I feel the same way you all do- that Alice and Jasper belong with us. But there are other factors we need to consider. Edward, can you tell everyone what Eleazar was thinking about the size of our family, on that day when we took Emmett back to his cabin in 1935? The exact words, please."

"_A coven of five_," I remembered aloud. "_With one enormous talent, and one with superior strength. Aro wouldn't be pleased- especially if any more were added_."

"You see the problem," Carlisle sighed.

"_I _don't see a problem," Rosalie sniffed. "Who cares what some prehistoric vampire in Italy thinks? It's none of his business who joins our family."

"Perhaps not," Carlisle said. "But it is every vampire's business to be concerned with staying in the good graces of the Volturi."

"No, Rosalie's right," I said. "Aro has no right to dictate the size of anyone's coven. There's no law about that- at least not that you've ever told me."

"And I thought Aro considered you a friend," Esme added.

"A friend, yes," Carlisle said uneasily. "But the last time we spoke, I was just a harmless nomad. Now, I'm the leader of one of the largest covens in the world. And if we add Alice and Jasper, we'll be second only to the Volturi themselves- in size _and_ talent. And we have to consider Jasper's history, as well. Even if Aro does not feel threatened by our size, I don't think he would be pleased to see us taking in a veteran of the Southern Wars. We have to consider how this will… appear."

"Surely he knows that you would never challenge him!" Esme protested.

"Of course I wouldn't," Carlisle agreed. "But Aro does take a great deal of pride in being the best… in _having_ the best," he added, glancing at me.

"You're worried he'll go for Alice, once he learns of her," I said slowly. Carlisle nodded.

"All the more reason for us to take her in," Esme said firmly. "and give her a real home, so she won't be dazzled by any _offers_ later on." She was remembering Demetri's and Jane's visit back in 1926… and the fear she had felt, that I would be swayed into joining them.

"Why does any of this matter?" Emmett asked suddenly. "It's not like we're going to write to the Volturi and announce that we've added to the family."

"No," Carlisle said. "But Aro has visited Eleazar more than once since his departure from the Guard. It's only a matter of time before our cousins meet Alice and Jasper, and it's only a matter of time before Aro takes his hand again."

"Maybe we could keep Alice's talent a secret, the next time we see the Denalis," Rosalie suggested.

"Not from Eleazar," I said. "He'll see her talent immediately. The only way to keep him from finding out is to stay away from our cousins altogether, or hide Alice and Jasper when they visit."

"And I am not willing to do either one of those things," Carlisle said with a frown. "First of all, _hiding_ Alice and Jasper is exactly the sort of thing that will make us look guilty of plotting. And secondly, the Denalis are the only family we have. We are not going to isolate ourselves from them, or from our other friends, for any reason. No, Aro is going to find out eventually- and when he does, I don't want it to seem like we've gone out of our way to hide anything- or anyone."

"So… they can stay?" Rosalie asked.

"I _want_ them to stay," Carlisle said. "I, too, want to give them a home. And let's face it: they're destined, in some way, to be with us. Alice's visions have been leading her here since the moment she awoke. I just wanted to make sure that you were all aware of the risks involved."

"What do you mean by 'risk', exactly?" I asked. "What do you think Aro will do, once he finds out?"

"Truthfully, I don't know," Carlisle admitted. "Perhaps I'm just being paranoid- and it may be centuries before Aro learns of our additions. The Volturi generally don't interfere in anyone's business, as long as there are no laws broken. I don't believe he would take any sort of action, per se… I just think he would be displeased."

"Let him be displeased, then," Esme said firmly. "What matters is that Alice and Jasper are here, and that we all want to welcome them into our family." Rosalie, Emmett and I murmured our agreement- and secretly, I felt a smug satisfaction in the fact that we were doing something that the Volturi might not approve of.

Carlisle relaxed, drawing Esme closer to his side. "You're right, of course. If we're all agreed, I think we'll give Alice and Jasper the good news when they get back from hunting."

"If Alice hasn't already seen the good news," I said with a smirk. I could already hear her thoughts returning toward the house- and she had, indeed, been watching, at least at the end.

Carlisle chuckled. "You're right. She might be listening right now."

"Hi, Alice!" Emmett said to the living room in general.

"Hi Emmett!" Alice yelled, throwing open the patio door. Emmett jumped in surprise, and we all laughed at him, even Jasper. Alice skipped up to Carlisle's side, but waited with sparkling eyes for him to speak.

"Alice, Jasper," he said with a smile, "welcome to the family."

Alice threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He reached around her to accept Jasper's outstretched hand. There were a few more hugs and handshakes, and more than a little squealing from Alice.

"Thank you, Carlisle," Jasper said solemnly. "And we appreciate the burden you are taking on by accepting us."

"Burden?" Carlisle asked.

"I think he's referring to the conversation Alice was just eavesdropping on," I said, smirking down at my new sister. Jasper nodded, and Alice's smile melted into a guilty pout.

Carlisle grinned. "It's all right, Alice. Privacy isn't something we're used to around here, anyway. But Jasper, please, understand. There is no _burden_. I was merely making sure that my family- _our_ family- understood all the considerations before making a commitment. But that time is past. When our kind change, that change is permanent. No matter what happens after this, you will both be a part of this family forever. We will support one another, and defend one another. We will share lives, our joys and sorrows… and, yes, our challenges. But this is no burden; it is a privilege. I will be proud to share eternity with both of you."

We all echoed his sentiment, and Jasper glanced around the family, his gift buzzing with sensation. "Thank you all," he said with another nod.

"Now, if you all don't mind," Emmett said abruptly, "I have six months of lawn duty riding on the Yankees." He switched the television back on, to find the game just ending. The White Sox had indeed won, 6-5.

"Light blue," I reminded him, reclining lazily back onto the couch. "And don't forget the crown molding."

"Cheater," Emmett scowled.

"I tried to warn you," I said cheerfully. "Never bet against Alice."

* * *

**I hope I'm not stretching canon too much here... I tried to keep Carlisle a bit naïve about Aro, but I really can't imagine that this conversation _didn't_ take place at some point. This was one of the reasons I invented the whole "Aro visiting Eleazar sometimes" thing back when I started the Series- to let Edward off the hook a bit as far as being the one to bring Alice to Aro's attention in New Moon. I think that one way or another, Aro eventually would have found out about Alice, and Edward knew that (at least in my head). It was still enormously stupid of him to go to Italy, but at least this way, he wasn't being _completely_ stupid. We love him anyway :)**

**Coming up soon in this story: Alice and Jasper's wedding, brothers getting into mischief, Jasper working on his blood issues, some Edward angst, and the beginnings of Alice's and Edward's unique friendship.**


	16. Introspection

**We're getting (slowly) closer to the resolution of the Edward/Carlisle awkwardness that has been going on since 1931- If you remember, I promised in a couple author's notes that it would take Jasper to help them fully understand each other. But, Edward being Edward, he will need to put himself through a bit more grief before we can get there. ****Never fear, there will be lots of fluff and fun along the way! I just can't guarantee that Edward will be cheerful during all of it. **

**Anyway, in preparation for this part of Edward's journey, you may want to re-read the first section of 1935, Chapter 16. The second half of Chapter 15 would be nice too, but not quite as necessary.**

* * *

"Carlisle, how old am I?"

Alice's questions always came out of the blue, and this was no exception. I was playing the piano in the living room, while Carlisle read in his chair and Alice lay sprawled on the carpet, surrounded by the hundreds of fashion magazines that Rosalie had gotten for her. Carlisle laid down his book, amused.

"I don't know, Alice. Without your human memories-"

"I know, I know. But you're a doctor! Can't you look at my teeth or something?"

Carlisle's response was interrupted by a thunderous _CRACK_ coming from the back yard. "Emmett!" he called_. _"You have to wait for a thunderstorm!"

"How am I supposed to perfect the design if I can't test the prototype?!" Emmett yelled back.

"Thunderstorm," Carlisle insisted, picking up his book again. "And aren't you supposed to be mowing the lawn?"

Emmett growled, but we soon heard the distinct sound of a starter rope hissing along its course. A second later, the motor of our new Whipper-Clipper roared to life, and Alice screamed, jumping almost to the ceiling in her surprise. Carlisle and I both laughed at her as she landed in a defensive crouch on top of her scattered magazines.

"It looks like it's possible to surprise you after all," Carlisle chuckled. _Hmm, I wonder…_

"Haven't you ever heard a gas mower before, Alice?" I teased.

"No! I never really spent any time around people's houses. What an awful racket!"

I agreed with her. I thought gas mowers were more trouble than they were worth, to say nothing of the noise and the awful smell of gasoline. Needless to say, I was grateful to have won the bet against Emmett last week- thanks to Alice.

"Teeth?" Alice said, hopping onto the couch beside Carlisle. He laid his book aside again.

"I'll try, Alice, but I don't think we'll learn much. Half of the point of looking at teeth is to determine age by wear and tear." Alice opened her mouth and he peered inside, smiling at his first foray into vampire dentistry. "Sorry," he said after a moment. "Your teeth are perfect, as I expected, and of course far sharper than they ever would have been as a human. But maybe…" He reached up and prodded around her skull, examining how closed her sutures were. "Nineteen or twenty, I'd guess, based on your skull development. But that's a very rough guess."

"Nineteen," Alice decided. "I don't want to be older than Jasper."

Carlisle laughed, picking up his book again. "Esme is older than me, Alice, by three years."

"Really?"

"Really."

I shook my head, smiling as I shifted into a new song. Alice knew so much about us, but her "observations" were still filled with holes, especially as she hadn't really gained much control over her visions until 1922. She had been asking questions all week, eagerly filling in the gaps in her knowledge. Her questions seemed to appear out of nowhere, and covered all sorts of topics. When did Esme learn to drive? How come Carlisle had never lived with the Denalis? Did Rosalie have any sisters as a human? How many houses did our family own, and where were they? What was my human mother's maiden name? What did London look like in 1660? Why didn't Emmett ever take a turn folding laundry?

Jasper had questions, as well, but he was a bit more circumspect. Alice just blurted out whatever came to mind; she was still enthralled with the idea of being able to finally _talk_ to us. As the days went on, my new brother and sister were feeling more and more a part of our family, and Jasper was relaxing more each day. He was especially enjoying his construction project with Esme; I had caught him thinking the other day about how after so many years of destroying things, it was nice to be using his hands to build something. He also just enjoyed being around Esme, period. Her emotions were always so warm, he said- that if he could remember what it felt like to be cold, being near her was what it might feel like to come upon a campfire after hours of wandering in the rain.

My new brother was still a mystery to me. He said things like that sometimes, and it was so at odds with his reserved personality, not to mention his violent, battle-hardened past. He just didn't seem like the type to be so poetic, so… _emotional_. And yet he spoke of our emotions – even his own – as though he were discussing the weather, or the way Emmett and I might ramble on about baseball statistics. It was simply the language he spoke in… and thought in.

I was learning some very interesting things about my family, through Jasper's thoughts. He generally didn't think in words about what he was sensing from us, but he sometimes did, as he mulled over what he was observing. I had never known, for example, how much Rosalie admired Esme. I knew that she had long since come to think of Esme as her mother, in every way, but there were certain times that Jasper noticed her heart swelling with love, admiration… even awe: like when Esme made a flower arrangement for the dining room table, or when she observed Esme being particularly patient with Carlisle.

It was also quite a revelation to "overhear" the jealousy that Carlisle sometimes felt whenever Esme came home after a long day out doing errands. The only reason I even knew that Jasper had sensed this was that he was confused by why Carlisle was feeling jealous, and it took him a few days to figure out. He finally made the connection: it only happened when Esme was telling a story about some conversation or other she had had that day… with another man, regardless of who that man was. It was so utterly ridiculous for Carlisle to feel this, and yet he did. When Jasper finally made the connection, he had counted down from three seconds in his head, and then thought _right on schedule._ He then turned his eyes to me, registering my curiosity. _Carlisle is a man of deep emotion, Edward, like yourself. But he often feels guilty within three seconds of experiencing certain emotions, especially…_ He had cut off his thought abruptly, switching to an intense effort to remember what color his dog had been as a young boy. Struggling against his patchy human memories was his new way of keeping me out- it was surprisingly effective.

Alice was also stirring things up. I had unrestricted access to _her_ gift, and what a gift it was. She had an average of two hundred visions per hour, and that was when she _wasn't_ making a particular effort. At least that number was shrinking daily, as she grew more secure in her new home; it seemed that her gift instinctually checked ahead whenever she worried about Jasper, or felt unsure of herself. The more comfortable they both got, the higher percentage of her visions were deliberate. I appreciated the decline in "unplanned" visions per hour, because I was still getting used to the bizarre feeling of seeing things before they happened. I was starting to share Alice's bad habit of answering questions before they were asked- though in all fairness, I had sometimes done that anyway, before her arrival.

But Alice's visions were helpful- there was no doubt about that. We hadn't done much with the weather possibility yet, though we were all excited to test it out. But I was already learning to take advantage of her gift, when it was called for. I had managed, just in the past week, to avoid two fights with Rosalie because of Alice warning me ahead of time not to put my foot in my mouth. She had also prevented a window from being broken (Emmett) and the front door from being knocked off its hinges (Emmett and Jasper). But most importantly, she had saved William Cummings' life.

It had happened this past Monday. My friend had decided to drop by and see if I was all right, no doubt due to my failure to appear at graduation the week before. If the rumors hadn't already been flying by then, I hated to think what my classmates had come up with once they realized I wasn't there to receive my certificate. Alice had been helping Esme put away the laundry- a task which had suddenly grown larger with their arrival- when she gasped in horror, dropping the clothes down the stairs. We all flew to her side, and Jasper murmured for all us to give her some space, and wait for the vision to end. But I didn't have to wait- I saw it for myself. In the vision, Jasper and Emmett were having a wrestling match outside when William's car pulled up. No one was else was home- Alice, Esme and Rosalie were planning on going shopping after the laundry was done, and I had already been on my way out the door to buy some more blank sheet music. William must have just decided to swing by, because we only had fifteen minutes.

The future was clear: Emmett hadn't been able to restrain Jasper, and that was that. Before Alice had snapped out of her vision, I told everyone that we needed to stay together, and that we needed to leave the house immediately. The future containing Jasper's accident disappeared a second later, and we all retreated deep into the woods until it was safe. When we got back to the house, William's scent was on the door along with a note that read:

_Edward,_

_Just stopped by to see if you were all right. Give me a call sometime._

_William_

Jasper apologized to everyone, and we all assured him of our forgiveness- not that he had actually done anything. But it had been a close call, and Carlisle finally introduced the idea of the blood challenges to Jasper, who reluctantly agreed to give it a try. They were due to begin tonight, since Carlisle was off work.

I was grateful, of course, that my friend had been spared. But seeing Alice's gift used for such a serious purpose made me uneasy. It made me wonder, again, why they had arrived at the moment they had. It also made it difficult to think about leaving, knowing that I wouldn't be able to hide my true destination from her. So far, it seemed that her visions hadn't registered my plans, but I knew that they would, once I did decide to leave. My departure didn't seem as urgent, at least, now that Rosalie and I were getting along again. And I had, for the past two weeks, been distracted by our visitors, and I hadn't felt safe leaving my family with them, at least at first.

But the close call with William served to make me realize that, if anything, my family was now safer than ever. I had always been the lookout, the one who could read the minds of the humans around us and determine when we were in danger of our nature being suspected. But now we had Alice. She might not be able to read minds, but she had something even better: an alarm system. If anything important was on the horizon, she would know about it. And once Jasper learned to be around humans again, he would be able to sense any suspicion or sudden fear directed at our family. I truly wasn't _needed_ anymore, in that way. Not a pleasant realization, but a freeing one.

The incident also brought back to mind all the disasters that I had caused, just before Alice and Jasper had arrived. And now that I was comfortable with my new brother and sister staying here, there was really no reason to put off the inevitable. I still needed to go. I still needed to crush my monster into submission. Not that he himself was capable of improvement- I understood that now. But I needed to conquer, once and for all, that part of myself which was weak, that had released him from his prison. I needed to drive myself to the breaking point, to exercise my will in such a way that I would never again put the humans around me in danger. I had to do this, because it was the only way to fend off the tremendous weight of guilt that was, once again, threatening to crush me.

Medical school had become, over the past few years, the answer. It was not just a dream that I hoped to achieve, for all the various smaller reasons that I had pursued it. No, it was the vehicle through which I was going to _finally_ atone for the heinous crimes I had committed. I was finally going to be able to save lives, and not only from myself. I had known that it might take some time, if saving nine hundred and thirty-seven lives was my goal; with my youthful appearance, I would have to start over often enough. And truthfully, I doubted whether anyone except myself was keeping score that way. But this atonement was also for Carlisle, for what I had done to him.

Our family – now seven strong- was dedicated to one another, and to the efforts that we each made to renounce the darkness inside of us. Jasper's reluctant willingness to begin the blood challenges later tonight was evidence of that. But there had been a time when_ I_ had not been willing. There had been a day when I had thrown away everything my father had taught me, and turned aside from the path he had set me on. Carlisle had assured me, many times over the years, that he had forgiven me for that day. And I believed him.

The trouble was that forgiveness, coming from a man like my father, meant little. Carlisle was all kindness, all generosity, all understanding; of course he had forgiven me. It was just the sort of thing he _did_. What Jasper had first perceived as weakness was actually a strength. It wasn't optimism, per se. It wasn't even idealism, not really. Carlisle had seen enough of the world, and the darkness in it, to be philosophical. But the man was an endless, stubborn fountain of _hope_- hope in the possibilities around him, and hope in the good intentions of his family. I didn't think he was capable of _not_ forgiving me. He simply lowered his expectations to match my performance, and accepted it. His disappointment was, no doubt, buoyed by his hope that perhaps someday, I might become worthy of the future he had created me for.

And so this endless supply of hope in me was exactly what cheapened itself, and made meaningless his forgiveness. Not that I wasn't grateful to have it; I was. I wouldn't want to be anywhere in the world except here, a part of this family. And that was exactly why I had to leave them soon, so that I could return to them sooner. Only when I returned, I would be a new man. I would finally have the strength of will to assure Carlisle that I was worthy of being trusted… trusted to not make mistakes, and trusted to eternally honor the values he had passed down to me. His complete disregard of the need for this assurance only made me more determined to offer it. I would finally be deserving of the forgiveness that he had so easily given me. Only then would I feel that I had absolved myself of the sin I had committed against him. Only then would I be ready to try again, to put forth a stronger effort towards the atonement that emulating his vocation would bring me.

My fingers had continued playing while my mind had drifted. Without my planning, they had transitioned into a song that I hadn't played in years. In fact, I hadn't played this song since its inception in 1920. There was no title, no words; just hope, set to music. This was the song I had written for Carlisle, back when I was just beginning to settle down after my newborn difficulties.

My beginning had been especially difficult, because of my gift. I had suffered not only from the usual raging thirst and emotional instability; I had to learn to deal with Carlisle's thirst, as well as my own. I had to learn to deal with his thoughts regarding work, and the bloody imagery – not to mention human scents- that he so desperately tried to avoid thinking about. And then, when I had been physically ready to move closer to humans, I entered an entirely separate phase of adjustment, as I was driven nearly insane with overstimulation from the thousands of minds I found myself near. It had taken months to learn how to keep the crowd of voices in the back of my mind, so that I could think clearly myself.

And through all this adjustment, Carlisle had been patient. He hadn't anticipated such a complicated beginning to his creation. He was obliged to spend hour upon hour trying to help me stay calm, training me to separate my own thoughts from his own, and later from those of the human populace. He fed nearly as often as I did, in the beginning, in an effort to quiet his own minute thirst for my sake. Once he returned to work, he immediately requested a transfer to less bloody duties, in order to help keep his mind free of those images which tormented me. He had worked tirelessly with me on the desensitization to the thoughts around me, sometimes spending whole days driving me closer and farther from the town. He had not only missed nearly a year of work altogether, but he often took time off after returning as well, to help me cope with whatever my throat or my mind was plaguing me with.

And so once I had finally calmed down in 1920, and mastered both my thirst and my gift, I wrote this song. It was my silent thanks for all that Carlisle had done for me, for the faith he had had in me all along, when I hadn't believed his promise that the madness would someday settle. The composition was quite simple, being one of my earliest. The musical phrases were set in triplets, the tone of the piece ascending from minor, diminished chords towards a higher key at the end, ending in the major. It was a tribute to the hope that Carlisle had given me, and to the hope that inspired him to daily continue his generous mercy not only towards myself, but towards everyone he found himself near. I had never told him about the piece back then, not wanting to make him relive the hell I had just put him through. Perhaps when I returned…

"Are you finished yet?"

My fingers finally stumbled over the song, and my eyes jerked open to find Jasper standing less than a foot in front of me.

"Finished with what?" I asked.

_With whatever deep pool of self-deprecation is on the menu today. I need your help with something._

I scowled up at him. "Fine." I stood and closed the lid over the keys.

"What was that song, Edward?" Carlisle asked. "I haven't heard that one in years."

"I've _never_ heard it," Alice said curiously.

"It's nothing."

I followed Jasper into my new bedroom, my eyes scanning over the progress he and Esme had made. The addition extended the house another fifteen feet into the back yard, and I was grateful to be so far from the other bedrooms. Esme had been especially creative with the back wall, installing five windows of various sizes and placements. Once Jasper and Emmett got the painting done, I would begin building the bookshelves. Would I finished them, before leaving? I wasn't ready to decide, not yet.

"What did you need help with?" I asked.

Jasper crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the drywall. _I could ask you the same thing._

I frowned, closing the door behind myself. "I don't know what you're talking about."

_Yes, you do. Your mood has been plummeting over the past week- and you've been filled with uncertainty, as well. I'm concerned about you. _

"I'm fine."

_Look, Edward. I don't expect you to confide in me- we've only known each other for a few days. But if this is something about Alice and me joining the family, I need to know about it._

"It has nothing to do with that," I said quietly, glancing back toward the living room. Did he really have to do this here? At least the lawnmower was nice and loud at the moment.

_Are you sure? Because you were fine until we were officially accepted last week. Ever since then, your emotional state has been deteriorating. It took a nose dive after my... after your friend stopped by on Monday. And today you've been even worse, especially the last ten minutes. You've even been feeling some apprehension, and it's been directed at Alice._

This was unbelievable. Not only did I have to worry about Alice catching my plans in her visions- now I had Jasper wanting to psychoanalyze me. I was beginning to understand what Rosalie meant when she complained about not being able to think in her own house. But he meant well.

"Jasper, I assure you, I have no problem whatsoever with you or with Alice. All right?"

Jasper eyed me for a moment, his gaze sharp; I could practically feel the tendrils of his gift sweeping through me. _All right. And I can see you want me to back off. But I can help, you know, even if you don't want to talk about it. I want to help._

I nodded. "Thank you. But as I said, I'm fine. The room looks great, by the way." Jasper nodded his thanks, and I turned to go.

_You're different than I expected._

I sighed, turning back around. "How so?"

Jasper pulled away from the wall, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. I saw several memories fly through his head- Alice talking about me, worrying over me.

"Well, I already told you what my first guess was: that you were dangerous, and used your gift to manipulate the others. I quickly lost that impression, though, after Alice explained things. She's always felt very…" he frowned. "…protective of you. I suppose that once I accepted the fact that you might not be the telepathic enforcer that I originally thought, I got the impression that you were an emotionally unstable, needy child."

"Ah."

"Your futures, according to Alice, have always been very unpredictable, very chaotic. So you can imagine why I was reluctant to expose myself to your emotions. I expected to feel a certain amount of… turbulence."

"And you haven't?"

He smiled. "No, I have. At least, this week I have."

"Then what's the unexpected part?"

"Your emotions are far more developed than I expected. Far more mature, and complex, I mean. And your feelings, especially for your family, run very deep."

"How can you tell what feelings are related to other people?"

Jasper cocked his head, looking thoughtful. "I can usually tell when someone's emotions are directed at a certain person. It's a matter of their… aura? No, that's not quite right…" He thought for another moment, shrugging. "I can't explain it. I can just tell when an emotion is directed inward, versus toward a certain person- and I can usually tell which one, if they're in the same room. Or to an object, or an event- though those are a bit harder. Let's say that Emmett is feeling excited; it might be because Rosalie is coming home after several hours away, in which case I would feel the excitement being projected in her direction. But I might also be tipped off by the amount of love and longing being experienced along with the excitement, indicating that he's thinking about Rosalie. Or maybe those emotions will spike when someone mentions her name, or when he hears the sound of her car pulling off of the highway. Now, let's say he's excited about a baseball game- that's a bit more complicated. I don't feel any direction, per se, in that situation, but I might get a clue if his excitement if accompanied by a sense of energetic anticipation, or of mischief directed at you or me, if he's planning on making some sort of wager."

"Or if he _says_ he's excited about the game."

"That too. But I don't think people are always aware of their emotional state, or interpreting it correctly." _Take you, for example. You are far from "fine"- see, there you go again! What could you possibly have to feel so guilty about?_

I sighed, resisting the urge to squirm under Jasper's analysis. "You were saying?"

"Yes. I was saying that I've been surprised to observe how deeply you feel for your family. You love each one in a different way, but in a very powerful way. You feel a great deal of responsibility- though your guilt is so tangled up in your other emotions, I can't sort it all out, yet." _Particularly in terms of Carlisle. But judging by how ashamed you feel right now, I'm guessing you don't want to talk about that._

I frowned. "Not particularly, no."

"Anyway, your feelings toward each person are relatively constant, at least so far- that fact is especially surprising. Though perhaps your emotional relationship to Rosalie is a bit more…"

"Turbulent?" I offered.

He smiled. "Yes. You two bring out some very strong emotions in each other."

Now we were in safer territory. "We've always had sort of a knack for that," I muttered.

He laughed lightly. "I know. " _I can't imagine why Carlisle ever thought that you two…_ He clamped down on his thoughts quickly, and my suspicions returned. Why had they come on the day they did? I no longer suspected them of any sort of foul play, but the irony was just too obvious. Why would they come literally hours before I had been about to leave? It couldn't just be a coincidence. But if they were trying to replace me somehow, why didn't Alice foresee that they should have just waited a few more hours? Or why not wait longer, so it would look less suspicious?

Jasper flinched, and I suddenly felt better. Maybe I was looking at this the wrong way- maybe they had come that week because Alice had seen that our family was having a tough time. She knew, perhaps, that giving Esme someone new to fuss over would lessen the blow of my departure. And that was exactly what would happen, soon. I should be grateful that she...

"Stop that," I growled. "You know I can see you doing it."

_Sorry, reflex. But I've had to deal with your guilt and shame all week. I know that there's no point in asking you not to feel something, but it's harder, being this close to it. My offer to help was for my sake as well as your own._

"Are you saying that your influence just now was in self-defense?"

_That's exactly what I'm saying. Remember, I don't just observe the emotions of those around me. I feel them._

"In that case, I'm sorry," I said quickly. Should I back away from him? It hadn't occurred to me that my problems were actually affecting him. I had been so concerned with deflecting Alice that I hadn't even bothered to try to control myself for Jasper's sake. He would probably be relieved when-

"That is _not_ helping," he said with a frown.

"Sorry. I mean, I'll try to do better."

He smiled, shaking his head. _Guilt over guilt over guilt- that's a first._ _I've felt guilt stacked on other emotions, but this is definitely a first!_ He seemed delighted, even as he winced at whatever noxious emotions I was emitting.

I finally backed away, giving him some space. "I'm sorry," I said lamely, for the third time.

"No, don't trouble yourself. Us 'gifteds' all have some extra things to get used to. But I appreciate your concern." He hesitated briefly. "That was what surprised me the most, actually."

"What?"

"That you were the one to defend me, that first night. I had already been able to tell, by that point, how protective you felt of your family. I fully expected you to lie about my thoughts in order to ensure our dismissal. Imagine my surprise when you were the one to convince Rosalie and Carlisle to let us _stay_. I still haven't quite figured that out."

I shrugged. "Everything I said was true."

"Regardless, you have my thanks. I am in your debt." He bowed slightly- an action which seemed out of place with his plaid shirt and jeans. I could almost imagine him decked out in full Confederate military attire, his left hand resting on his sword as he bowed. A true Southern gentleman. Despite the challenges he had brought with him, I was glad to have my new brother.

I shook my head. "Hardly. We're family now, remember?"

He grinned as he inhaled my warm affection. "Now that's the type of emotion I could get used to."


	17. In Which Edward Gets Painted Light Blue

**Time for a fun chapter! (if you couldn't tell by the title) I have to confess to another little history fudge here: the VW minibus didn't really come out until November of 1950, but I couldn't resist moving it up a few months. Esme is officially a soccer mom! (well, without the soccer, but... you know) Anyway, I had some trouble finding details about the original anatomy of the 1950 version, so if anyone is a collector or whatever please let me know about any mistakes. Goldielover tells me that seat belts probably weren't available in German vehicles yet, but it's too fun not to keep. At least history will be appeased in that nobody will use them.**

**Also, for those of you fretting over Edward's "imminent" departure... don't worry too much :) Alice is on the case!**

* * *

Esme and Rosalie returned home an hour later. But instead of hearing one engine pulling up to the house, we heard two. We all went outside to meet them, Alice and I sharing a curious smile as we shared her vision of what we were about to see. Carlisle knew what the surprise was as well, though this was the first time I had caught him thinking about it.

Rosalie got out of the Lincoln, wearing a polite, disdainful expression. Esme, on the other hand, was getting out of… something. I didn't even know what it was called.

"What is _that_?" Emmett asked, pointing to the vehicle in question.

"It's a passenger van," Rosalie said distastefully.

Esme nodded. "It's a Volkswagen Type Two, hot off the press! Surprise, everyone! Well… almost everyone," she laughed, looking at Alice.

"I didn't see it until this morning!" Alice promised. She jumped up once to peek inside, and then decided to leap up onto the roof, hanging upside down to get a better look. The body was green, and while there weren't windows all around, there were still so many. The entire engine block lay _under_ the driver's and front passenger's seats, giving the whole thing a odd, cubical look. It was as if someone had taken a full-sized bus and smashed the front end right off.

"It looks like a bus," I said, wrinkling my nose. "And a malformed one at that. Whatever did you get it for?"

"We wanted a way to drive all together," Carlisle explained, stepping forward to open the hood- which was nearly the size of a vehicle itself. But his hand paused in mid-air. "Where's the engine?" he wondered aloud.

"In the back," Rosalie growled. _It's unnatural._

Carlisle walked around the green monstrosity, continuing his explanation as he finally found the hood. "Now that there are more of us, we'll need to start spreading out farther when we hunt. And there's plenty of room for all of us."

"And a few more?" I teased.

Carlisle looked horrified. "Edward, you know I have no intention of-"

I held up my hands, laughing. "I was referring to the Denalis, when they visit!"

"Oh! Then, yes." He closed the hood. "Well, why don't we try it out?"

Esme opened the double doors and gestured inside proudly. It looked even bigger inside, and it looked like some of the seats could be removed, if desired.

"What are those straps laying on the seats?" I asked Esme.

"Seat belts," she said with a mischievous smile. "I thought it would be a nice touch for our cover story, since Carlisle is a doctor. He wants to keep his family safe, don't you think?"

"You paid extra for _seat_ belts?"

She laughed and opened the other door, leaping up into the front passenger seat. "Come on, kids!"

The van looked even bigger on the inside. We all piled in, Emmett and Rosalie taking the back seat over the engine, Alice and Jasper in the next row. I was left to the bench behind Carlisle and Esme, since it was already half filled with shopping bags. Alice was about to peek into the bags, but decided to peek into the future instead, squealing when she saw herself trying on her new jeans. The ladies shrieked when Emmett threw his weight against the side of the van, rocking the entire thing sideways onto two wheels. Alice hadn't been checking ahead this time, and Jasper was more than happy to catch her as she tumbled onto him.

"Be nice, Emmett," Rosalie sighed. "It'll fall apart if you breathe on it."

I banged my fist gently against the metal. "It seems sound to me."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "It's _German_."

"The war's over, babe," Emmett said, scooting up against her. The van righted itself and slapped back down onto the driveway. "Besides, with a back seat like this…"

"_No_, Emmett!" Jasper and I growled in unison.

"This is a family vehicle, you two," Esme said from the front. "Behave yourselves back there!"

Carlisle started the engine, and Jasper tensed, gripping the seat with one hand and Alice with the other.

"Jasper, haven't you ever ridden in a car before?" Esme asked. He shook his head.

"No, ma'am." _Don't see why people got rid of horses, myself. Although I don't think that would work, in our case._

"Probably not," I agreed aloud. Then I nodded toward the back seat. "Emmett and Rosalie went up in an airplane a couple of years ago."

Jasper frowned. "An airplane? Wasn't it… crowded?"

"Very," Rosalie said. "And it smelled awful."

"Awful?"_ I would think it would smell wonderful. All that blood in one place…_

"Just imagine a crowd of people smoking and drinking for four hours… in a box," Emmett said, making a face. "The air just got thicker and thicker. By the time we got to Vegas, we vowed never to fly again."

But Jasper was still intrigued by the idea of having an airplane full of humans, all to himself. He was imagining what it might smell like. How long it had been since he'd had more than one at a time. How _easy_ it would be to-

"Jasper," I said sharply.

He flinched, snapping out of the fantasy. _Sorry. It's been nine weeks… I've never gone this long._

"You should hunt before we start the challenges tonight," I said. He nodded, swallowing his venom.

Carlisle glanced up at me in the rear view mirror. _"We"?_

"Of course," I answered. "You need me to-"

He shook his head slightly. _We'll talk about it later. Not in front of Jasper._

I frowned, but he turned his attention back to the road. The engine was protesting already, despite the fact that we were going a measly fifty miles an hour.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Emmett complained.

"I'm still accelerating," Carlisle said, his eyes sparkling with silent laughter. Rosalie just sank her face into her hands.

"I'm lucky I don't have any friends right now," she muttered. "Because I wouldn't be caught _dead_ in this thing if I did."

"Shucks, you're already dead anyway, darlin'," Emmett drawled. We all thought his impression of Jasper was quite good- even Rosalie had to smile.

"I don't say 'shucks'," Jasper muttered. Alice just kissed him on the nose.

"This is pathetic," I complained. "I could run _backwards_ faster than this. With my eyes shut."

"You could not," Emmett said with certainty.

"Yes, I could. And no, I do not want to make a little wager." I kicked the cans of blue paint sitting next to my feet. "I have that paintbrush right where I want it- in _your_ hands."

Emmett growled his disapproval, but Rosalie silenced him with a long kiss. Apparently she didn't hate _everything_ about our new monstrosity of a vehicle. I sighed in frustration, but Jasper just laughed softly behind me, pulling Alice closer. It was all well and good for him to absorb their secondhand passion – he had Alice. I suddenly felt very awkward, crammed into a metal container with three blissful couples. At least two of those couples had a sense of decency.

"Would you two _please_ think about something else?" I moaned.

Carlisle cleared his throat, and they dutifully sat back up. "I think we'll head back home," he said, grinning in the mirror at Emmett. "Somebody has some painting to do."

.

.

.

The van seemed to go even slower on the way home, if that were possible. But the purchase was a good idea, nonetheless. No one said it out loud, but we all knew it was for Jasper's sake. This way, we could all travel together without having to worry about his self-control every time we ran too near to a town or road. And Carlisle was right – we really did need to start hunting in more locations, considering our numbers and Jasper's appetite. I just hoped that Rosalie would be able to do something about the speed.

As soon as we got home, the ladies disappeared upstairs to try on their jeans, and Emmett threw me a dirty look as he and Jasper went off to start the painting. This left Carlisle and I still standing outside by the van.

"I understand the need," I said as I touched the side of the van, "but this is, by far, the _ugliest_ thing you've ever bought."

"I can't argue with that," Carlisle said with a smile. "I think I'll stick to the Ford, for work."

"Five children and four vehicles," I mused. "Not bad, considering you were a bachelor at the turn of the century."

"I know." _Amazing._

"How are we going to handle Alice and Jasper in the cover story?"

"For this location? I'm not sure we need to. Jasper won't be ready for society for some time, and Alice… well, I don't know. Do you think she's ready to be around humans? On a regular basis, I mean?"

"She's fine. Her control is quite good."

"I don't mean that. I mean her… enthusiasm."

We shared a smile, both imagining how Alice might behave herself were she to enter a classroom. "I think high school would work," I said, "but since you already have Rosalie and Emmett entering college, I don't know. They wouldn't really be able to keep an eye on her all the time, and I can't start over until we move again."

He nodded, looking down at nothing. "Have you thought of anything particular you'd like to do now? We'll probably be here two more years."

I shrugged. "There's always correspondence school again. Maybe I'll finish up that mathematics degree. Besides, it's probably best if I stick close to Jasper for now."

"About that…"

I frowned. "Yes, about that. I need to be there tonight."

"No, you don't. I've never once smelled a human anywhere near that part of the forest, and it'll be the middle of the night."

"Wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry? And what if Jasper loses control and attacks you?"

"He's not a newborn, son. I highly doubt that he's going to _attack_ me. And even if he does lose control, I'll just pour out the blood, like I did with Emmett. You don't need to be there. Both your gift and Jasper's have a way of magnifying thirst, and I don't want to make it any harder for him than it needs to be."

"Oh… I didn't think about that. I could stand beside you, then, and… what?"

Carlisle looked carefully at me. "This isn't just about helping Jasper, is it?"

I clenched my teeth, trying very hard to keep my face impassive. "No."

_Edward…_

"Just hear me out. I'm not saying that I need to go through the challenges all over again. I just think that it would be wise to check if my control has…. regressed."

"Regressed."

He waited for me to explain, and I cursed myself for even bringing it up. When I did eventually announce my departure, I didn't want Carlisle to suspect that my leaving had any connection to recent events. I should have just let this alone. But I _was_ curious about this, and the blood challenges presented a safe, measurable way for me to test myself, before and after my "treatment".

"Regressed," I repeated. "After… what happened at Yale."

"You haven't _regressed_."

"I think I have. When we went to see John Lewis together, he was getting a blood transfusion, remember?"

"And that made you thirsty?"

"Yes. A stronger reaction than other times I've seen patients receiving blood."

"I'm not surprised to hear that. Seeing your patient again brought back the memory of your struggles in the operating room. You didn't have any trouble with the car accident victim, did you?"

"What car accident victim?"

"The night that Alice and Jasper arrived, when you came to tell me about your suspicions. The patient right next to mine was receiving a transfusion, and he also had some lacerations. You didn't even notice, did you?"

"No… but I was distracted that night."

"It doesn't matter. Your control is exceptional, Edward- it still is. Your reaction to seeing John Lewis' transfusion was almost purely psychological, in my opinion. And the same could be said, at least in part, for your difficulty during his surgery. Thirst isn't just a physical phenomenon."

"I see your point. But I still want to be there."

"No."

"But don't you think I should-"

"I said _no_, Edward."_ I know you. You think your struggle during the surgery was some kind of sign that you aren't strong enough, and that you need to somehow push yourself even harder. Am I right?_

My jaw clenched harder. I _definitely_ shouldn't have begun this conversation. If I admitted this, it was going to be much harder to protect him from the truth later on.

_Look. It was an admirable goal, going to medical school. And I see no reason why you can't try again, if you want to. But we've spent enough time working on your control- worrying over it now isn't going to help you get past what happened. If anything, you need to spend less time worrying about it, not more. I won't have you obsessing over a problem that doesn't even exist. And as I said, I don't want to make Jasper's task any more difficult. I have no idea how this will work with him, and I don't need another variable introduced- especially when he can be affected by our emotional states. So please, let this go. _

I inhaled slowly, forcing my hands and my jaw to relax. "Fine." He was right; this wasn't about me. And if I had any chance of convincing him - soon- that I wasn't leaving because of something like this, I needed to stop playing the self-absorbed teenager. "You're right, of course."

He sighed in relief. "Thank you." He tossed me the keys to the new van. "Now why don't you figure out somewhere to park this thing?" _Somewhere out of sight, preferably._

"Where are you going?"

"To work, to get the blood for tonight. I'd like you and Emmett to take Jasper hunting later on, after the first coat of paint is up."

"All right."

I moved the van back behind the garage, leaving the keys next to all the others inside. As soon as I entered the kitchen, my nose twitched at the offensive smell of fresh paint that was already filling the house. I made my way to the room in question, to find Emmett and Jasper painting at vampire speed. Esme and Jasper had completed most of the construction at human speed, but my brothers' faces were twisted in disgust as they made short work of their disgusting task.

"Carlisle said we should take Jasper out while the first coat dries," I said, leaning against the door frame.

Emmett nodded, kicking a paintbrush in my direction. "Why don't you make yourself useful? This stuff reeks."

"No way. You lost fair and square, and I'm going outside."

"We've both been working all day," Jasper protested. "All you've done is play the piano." _And be emotionally turbulent!_

"Composing_ is_ work," I scoffed. "I'd like to see you two try it."

"Come on, Eddie," Emmett growled. "It's _your_ room."

"And it looks terrific," I said with a grin, stepping inside to survey their progress. "Don't forget about the…" I trailed off, tensing as I saw the devious look they were exchanging, and the plan in their minds. "You wouldn't."

They attacked together, before I could take another breath. Jasper dove for my feet as Emmett lunged for my shoulders, and I spun around to make my escape. I would have made it out of the room with time to spare, but I hadn't accounted for the ladder that was right behind me. I crashed into it just as Jasper locked his arms around my ankles. I grabbed the ladder as I fell, swinging it like a club at Emmett as he came at me. It crumpled with a groan against his face, and he snorted with laughter as he tossed it aside and grabbed my neck with his left hand. I fought them as hard as I could, but they dragged me over toward the paint buckets with ease, and Emmett used his right hand to dump an entire gallon of light blue pain all over me. I snarled and sputtered, finally twisting my feet free of Jasper's paint-slick grip. I landed a kick on Emmett's throat, which made him release my neck. I grabbed another paint bucket and sloshed the contents right at Jasper's head, but he dropped to the floor just in time, and the pain splashed all over Emmett's face instead. The best part was that he had had his mouth open to laugh at Jasper, who had been my original target.

Emmett coughed the paint out while Jasper shook with laughter on the floor- which was now a paint-soaked disaster. "Oh, that's just…" His eyes fell on the final bucket of paint, which hadn't been opened yet. _No sense in just one of us staying clean, is there?_

"Nope," I said cheerfully. Emmett lunged again, but for Jasper this time. Jasper tried to run, but slipped on the pain underfoot as he ran in place. Emmett held him down while I cracked the bucket open over his head. His golden hair quickly became a mass of sticky, drippy blueness. He shook his head to get the excess off, sending a spray of paint directly onto…

Esme's face.

"What do you three think you're DOING!?" she hissed from the doorway. We all froze, Emmett's hands still around Jasper's throat and me still holding the incriminating evidence of the third bucket right above his blue hair. Jasper's gift flashed to life and Esme relaxed her stern expression, looking around the room in amazement. Not only was the hardwood floor now soaked with paint, but we had destroyed the ladder, wasted all the paint for today, and there was a dent in the wall that looked suspiciously like Emmett's profile.

"Boost it," I whispered. Jasper concentrated his effort, and Esme's laughter bubbled over. She darted over to where we were crowded, but she slipped on the paint as well, shrieking as Emmett flicked out his foot, tripping her while she was off-balance.

"Emmett!" I shouted. Esme sat back up, the entire right side of her now blue. Rosalie and Alice finally made their appearance at the doorway, Alice's eyes sparkling with amusement. They both had their new blue jeans on, and I noticed now that Esme was also wearing hers… though we had just ruined them.

"What _happened_ in here?" Rosalie shrieked, backing away.

"All right," Esme said, her eyes flashing. "Who started it?" All three of us pointed at each other. Esme glanced back at Alice, who shrugged innocently- she wasn't about to give Jasper away.

"Well," she said, standing back up. "Since you _all_ started it, I think you can all repair the damage together- starting with the floor. I don't want to see a single speck of blue in the wood when you're finished. And that wall had better be perfect. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," we muttered together.

"Good. I'll bring you everything you need, because you three are _not_ walking through the house like that. When you're done working, you can go out the window and wash off in the creek. And Edward, something tells me this didn't start until you came back in the house. So you can be the one to go buy more paint and a new ladder, and next time leave you them _alone_ while they work. If this happens again, I just might decide that all the other rooms in the house need to be painted!"

We all nodded, doing our best to look ashamed until her back was turned- though she herself was trying not to laugh until she left the room. As soon as she was gone, Jasper began shaking with silent laughter again. He was delighted to be scolded by his new mother, especially since he knew she hadn't really been angry- he had no memory of anything like this with his human mother. He thought about running and grabbing Alice with his blue, dripping arms, but she saw his plan and ran away shrieking, followed by Rosalie.

"Laugh it up, little brother," Emmett growled. "If you think paint smells bad, just wait 'til you smell paint thinner!"

My nose wrinkled at the thought. "We'd better get started," I sighed, looking around at the mess. "The paint's starting to dry."

But Jasper's gift blinked to life again, and all three of us collapsed back down into the blue puddle, laughing.


	18. Foiled

**I'm always so grateful for all the kind reviews, especially the in-depth ones! And I'm glad you all enjoyed the silliness of the last chapter (and blue vampires, of course). But you've had the fun.. now it's time to pay the price. Just remember: more angst now means a sweeter epiphany later on. I promise! At least this time the angst is delivered via pixie smackdown. Alice to the rescue!**

* * *

It took us the rest of the afternoon to get the paint out of the floor. By the time we were done, we had all sworn a solemn oath to _never_ get on Esme's bad side again, at least where paint thinner was concerned. I had never been so grateful to get outside into the fresh air before. And by the time _I_ was clean, I was feeling pretty sorry for Jasper and his shoulder-length hair.

After getting dressed again, I headed downstairs to find Carlisle laughing at Esme's account of our antics earlier. Jasper and Emmett were out on the porch, still half-blue and dripping from their turn in the creek.

"Shower's free," I reported, and Esme announced that since Emmett had thought it was so funny to trip her earlier, that he could very well have the last turn to clean off. Jasper smirked in triumph, leaving a fuming Emmett back on the porch.

"We need more bathrooms," he groused as Jasper shut the door in his face. Carlisle burst out laughing again as Jasper rushed through the living room toward the stairs, his blue hair painting a streak in mid-air as he passed. Alice and Rosalie were giggling together on the couch, and Esme raised her eyebrows, considering the truth of Emmett's statement. Carlisle recognized the remodeling-look in her eyes and pulled her close, wondering for the thousandth time how he had gotten the most amazing wife in history.

I smiled as I took in the sight of my family. We were in a good place right now, and my heart ached at the thought of leaving them. But it meant that I could return sooner, ready to move on with them when the time came. And if Carlisle wasn't going to let me help with the blood challenges, there really was no reason to delay. The others would be more than able to keep Jasper company when he ventured out to hunt. I hoped that by the time I returned, and we moved on, Jasper would be ready to come to school with the rest of us. I would even agree to return to high school, if it meant we could all start off fresh together.

I wouldn't tell anyone today, though. Both Carlisle and Jasper were preoccupied with beginning the blood challenges tonight, and while Esme wasn't _really_ angry about the paint, I should probably give her a couple of days before dropping this on her. But now that my mind was made up, I wanted to get on with it; I would leave this weekend. A sense of peace filled me, even as my throat burned against the prospect of my plans. But I would hunt one last time, before leaving, with whoever wanted to join me. This would _not_ be like last time. And while I would still be hurting Esme, she would have the comfort of her new children, and my assurance that I would soon return.

I stole a quick glance at Alice and her mind, to see whether my decision had triggered a new vision. But she was still giggling with Rosalie- they were practicing sitting different ways in their new jeans, and Carlisle was whispering in Esme's ear, asking why she wasn't wearing hers. This elicited a shriek of laughter from Esme herself, who hadn't expected Carlisle to be so interested in the ugly things.

"They're ruined," I announced cheerfully, "courtesy of Emmett." The front door shuddered under Emmett's pounding fist.

"I have another pair," Esme admitted softly. "Upstairs. You wouldn't like them…" But Carlisle headed right upstairs, pulling her along and mentally reminding me to take Jasper out hunting when I got the chance.

"I will," I murmured, smiling as I watched them disappear up the stairs. I supposed we should have taken Jasper out before we all cleaned off- maybe I could convince Emmett to come along as soon as Jasper came back downstairs. Then I could go ahead to the hardware store while he cleaned up, and-

Alice's laughter suddenly cut off, her mind swept up in a vision of me surrounded by swirling snow. Well, _that_ hadn't taken long. I tried not to react visibly, hoping to speak to her alone later. There was no point in trying to lie to her, even if this particular vision didn't give much away. It was better to explain things now, rather than have her get the full story next week and spill the beans to everyone in my absence.

But as soon as she snapped out of the vision, she shot to her feet. "I don't _believe_ this," she hissed at me, her eyes dark and flashing.

"Not here," I murmured, nodding toward the door.

"What?" Rosalie asked, frowning.

"Nothing," Alice growled, stomping over to follow me out. "Edward's just being an _idiot_, as usual."

"Oh, is that all?" Rosalie said, picking up a magazine.

I sighed, opening the door and gesturing for Alice to go ahead of me. She shoved Emmett out of her way and started running. I had no choice but to follow. But what was she so upset about? All she had seen was me in the snow- for all she knew, I was planning to go skiing. But now she was furiously digging into my future as she ran, her visions zeroing in on my black eyes.

Once we were well out of earshot of the house, she spun around, her tiny finger in my face. "I know what you're planning," she scolded. "And you can just forget the whole thing."

"I can explain," I sighed.

"You don't need to explain," she snapped. "This isn't the first time you've created this future. I've seen it all before. Why do you think Jasper and I came when we did?!"

My eyes narrowed. "So you _did_ come because I was leaving."

"Of course we did! It was the only way to stop you!"

"I… what do you mean, stop me?"

Her mind scrambled for control, and she looked up at me with sad eyes. "I mean that I saw you leaving, the first time… and I saw what future it would lead to."

"Show me."

"No." She finally looked away. "You don't need to see that. It doesn't matter, anyway. The important thing is, we got here in time to stop you. I knew that you would feel the need to stay, to protect your family from the newcomers… especially if one had red eyes."

"I thought you were always going to come here."

"Yes, but we were going to wait for several more years. Until Jasper's eyes were golden, and his control stronger. But when I saw…" Her voice hitched as if she was going to cry. "When I saw your future change so suddenly, I knew that I had to stop you. And I did! Why are you deciding to leave again? Why were you leaving in the first place?"

"You're the clairvoyant," I said carefully, unwilling to share more than I had to. "You tell _me_."

"How should I know?" she said, her anger returning. "I've never understood half the decisions you've made. You have it so good here, Edward! What could possibly drive you to wander up into the Arctic and starve yourself?!"

I clenched my jaw, unsure what to say. Why should I explain myself to this slip of a girl? She might be my sister now, but that didn't give her the right to pry into my mind. _Or_ my future. I had been so concerned about the danger Jasper presented that it hadn't occurred to me that I should be worried about Alice. She already knew more than I had hoped. My hopes of getting her to keep her mouth shut were starting to sink.

"Why don't you just read my journal and find out?" I said through my teeth.

She sighed in exasperation. "I _told_ you, I don't do that on purpose. I wasn't even watching your future when the change came. Disasters like that tend to activate their own visions."

"What disaster?"

She just shook her head, her mind a steel trap. "Just trust me. You can't do this."

"Alice, I don't even know what you're talking about. There's no _disaster_. I'm only going for a few months… maybe a year. Two at the worst. Then I'll be back home." _And everything will be different._

She shook her head furiously. "You won't come back." She finally let me see just one blurry glimpse: myself, my bright red eyes looking down in anguish and a brick wall behind me. I flinched; I hadn't seen those eyes in a long time, except in my own memory. The image sent a burning wave through my mind, igniting other memories along with it… memories of my years away. The sight awoke smells, sounds… taste. And, as always was the result, the sea of faces. I backed away from Alice, holding my hands up in defense against the crowd assembling in my mind. Their whispers were already beginning.

_Murderer._

"Is that what you want?" she asked softly.

"That wasn't a vision," I protested shakily. "I can tell the difference. That was a memory of a vision. It was a long time ago. There was no need to-"

"No. That was a memory of the vision I had two and a half weeks ago." _That was where you were headed. And there was more. __I don't want you to see it, but if you won't listen to me…_

"Show me the rest."

She sighed delicately, looking worried. _You won't like it._

"_Now_, Alice!"

She frowned, closing her eyes and taking us back to a meadow. She was laying up against Jasper, humming the song I had written for Esme back when she was a newborn. That was strange enough, to hear the music coming from her at a time when she and Jasper hadn't even met up with us yet. But her song stopped after a moment as a jolt of happiness burst through her. _Jasper!_ she thought in a mischievous tone, and spun around in his arms to kiss him. I grimaced as she relived that, as well- but it didn't last long. The meadow disappeared from her sight, to be replaced by myself, running through the woods in the surgical garments I had been wearing in the operating room at Yale. I was literally running, moving- one of her "almost here" visions. A flash of white, and I was fighting with Emmett, my teeth bared in fury. Another flash of white. I was sitting atop the waterfall, staring down into the spray in disgust.

The flashes of white came faster now. The fight with Rosalie. Emmett yelling at Carlisle; this one was a still image. Myself, leaning back against a tree in the dark with a look of grim determination on my face. Myself again, in the swirling snow, eyes black. Four more of these, the last with my fists tangled in my hair. I was lying in the snow this time, half-covered by a drift of white. The next one was the red-eyed portrait she had already showed me, but it was the full picture this time. I wasn't just looking down at nothing; I was staring down in anguish at the dead woman in my arms. I almost didn't recognize her, aged twenty-three years as she was. But it was her; there was no doubt.

It was Margaret Weiss.

"I would _never_!" I snarled, but Alice didn't open her eyes. It wasn't over yet. The images came faster, fuzzier now. I killed again and again, but it wasn't like before. It was women, always women. There was one picture of me trying to feed from a deer, but my eyes never changed. The women started to get younger in each successive picture. The final image was the most chilling of all: I was kneeling on a stone floor, a black cloak weighing heavy on my shoulders. My eyes, still red, staring lifelessly at the shoes of the man standing smugly before me: Aro.

"No more," I choked out, "please." Alice's memories ended, to be replaced by the sight of me now. At some point during the onslaught, my horror had brought me to my knees, a grim mirror image of the last vision she had shown me. She dropped down beside me, her tiny arms not quite encircling my shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she sighed into my shoulder, "but you had to see that. You have to understand, Edward… that was where you were headed. That's why we had to come when we did."

"None of that would have happened. There is _no_ way, Alice. No way I could ever do those things!"

_You already did. _

"That was only one possible future," I said stubbornly. "None of that might have happened. There are any number of-"

"No. That's not how it works. That was the road you were on… the only one."

"It could have changed."

Her eyes snapped back up to mine, defiant. "And it did change. It all disappeared, as soon as Jasper and I decided to come."

I stared back at her, overcome simultaneously with gratitude and revulsion. I was sickened by the fact that she held this future in her memory now. She would be living in the same house as me, knowing not only the darkness that I had already succumbed to once, but also the wretched depths that I had almost descended to. I was still reeling from the shock that I was even capable of such a monstrous future, but I also saw the true power of Alice's gift, and of her… love. She had literally _saved_ me from this.

"Thank you," I ground out.

"I never intended for you to see all that," she said sadly. "I saw how much it would hurt you. I'm not looking for thanks. I'm looking for trust."

"Trust," I echoed dumbly.

"Trust me when I say you can't do this. You've seen what could happen. What _will_ happen." She stood up, folding her arms across her stomach. She searched the future, only to find me still stumbling around in the snow. _And you STILL won't change your mind! What's the matter with you!?_

"It won't be like that this time," I said quickly. I jumped to my feet, my jaw set. "I'll be more careful. Just tell me how long I went without feeding the first time, and I'll make sure not to go that long."

"How am I supposed to know that?" she demanded. "My visions don't come with timestamps. One blizzard looks the same as another!"

"I'll just be careful," I repeated. "Now that I know the danger-"

"Have you listened to anything I've said?! You can't do this at _all_!"

"I _have_ to!" I hissed. "If what you've seen is even remotely possible, it means I'm still too dangerous. I'm still not strong enough. Those visions prove exactly _why_ I need to do this! No, listen!" I held up my hand, blocking her interruption. "I'll do it differently. Instead of stopping completely, I'll draw it out in segments. I'll wait longer each time, but only until I-"

Alice's eyes glazed over and she gasped as the new visions came, product of my decision. I was still in the Arctic, and looking calmer than the first time. But the pictures flashed one after another, until the same future as before began to unfold. Not Margaret this time, but a family of strangers, still in the snow. Their dogsled cracked in half, parents and children both dead at my hand. Alice shook with invisible tears, staring out into nothing as the pictures progressed, slowly lining up with the visions she had had before.

"Enough," I cried, but the visions went on. I grabbed Alice's shoulders and shook her, desperate to stop the nightmares that she was passing on to me. She gasped again, snapping out of it.

"Edward, _please_," she moaned. "You need to let this go. It's always going to end that way."

"I don't understand," I said stupidly. "I haven't _decided_ to do any of that. I thought your visions were based on the decisions people make."

She shook her head. "When a person makes a decision, a path is laid. Many of the… the landmarks of that future are a matter of course, based on that person's character. Don't ask me to explain that, because I can't. Why did I see Jasper when I woke up? Why did I see all of you- especially the ones that hadn't been changed yet? I don't know! Some things are just a matter of destiny!"

I shook my head. "It is _not_ my destiny to do those things, Alice. I refuse to believe that."

"Of course it isn't! What I'm saying is that there are some paths that you, being the person that you are, are not meant to go down. This is one of them. If you stay on this course, those things – or things like that – _will_ happen. Please, just trust me on this!"

My mind finally locked up, unable to proceed. Alice was asking me to lay down the one act that was supposed to fix everything. This was going to be the answer, the cure. I had come so close… or so I had thought.

"Edward," Alice sighed. "Listen to me. You _need_ this family. We all do. Just look at Jasper- the past he has come through, compared to the future he has now."

"_You've_ managed well enough alone," I protested bleakly.

"I was never alone," she said, her eyes still dark but sparkling now. "I had you all from the very beginning. Those visions gave me hope, and they taught me the right way to live. Without them… without all of _you_, I would have become a total savage. I know, because I saw it. You're not the only one with dark possibilities, Edward. Every one of us is lucky to be here, and we all need each other. This life is hard enough as it is, and the choice that our family makes is even harder. We're just not _meant_ to do any of this alone. I guess I'm grateful, though, that you were about to try- it brought us here sooner." _So in a way… thank you._

"You're welcome," I said grimly.

She smiled, sad again. _You still haven't changed your mind. I don't suppose seeing the rest would help?_

My stomach twisted in protest. "There's more?"

She closed her eyes again, and I braced myself against what I was about to see: myself, no doubt, roaming the world under a cloak of servitude, my red eyes dull and without hope as I fulfilled whatever murderous duties I had been assigned. But Alice wasn't looking at my future this time. I saw Esme holding a picture of me and weeping, a perfect copy of her grief back in the late twenties- but no, she was wearing jeans this time. Emmett, his ever-present smile turned to melancholy, his laughter quieted. Alice herself, her eyes glazed over with a vision and her face a mask of guilty horror. Jasper was standing behind her, trying in vain to soothe her with some emotion. And Carlisle…. Carlisle on the roof, his head in his hands. Beside him lay a torn envelope, postmarked from Italy.

"Stop!" I begged her. "Enough. I won't go. I swear it."

The visions evaporated instantly. Alice searched again, reaching farther and farther until my future was a blurry sea of possibilities – but at least I was home, my eyes safely golden, our family intact.

"Thank you," she sighed, her shoulders drooping in exhaustion. _Don't ever do that to me again!_

I shook my head in defeat. "I won't."

Alice glanced back toward the house, her vision flicking through the next thirty seconds. "Jasper's coming."

He ran up, his hair dripping, but golden again. "What's going on?" he demanded. "What are you doing to her?! I could feel her despair all the way back in the house!"

I backed away from Alice quickly; I hadn't realized how close I had been standing to her. "It's all right," Alice said, laying a hand up on his shoulder. "Edward was going to leave again, but it's passed. He's staying now."

Jasper's eyebrows rose as he searched my face, my emotions. "Oh. You told him, then?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." _So this is what you've been working up to the past few days._ _No wonder your emotions have been going haywire! I'm guessing Alice has shown you enough to change your mind?_

I nodded, burning with shame. Did Jasper know all of this, too?

"No," he said, answering my curiosity. "I don't know much of the details- and I don't need to. The point is, Alice knows- and you'd do well to listen to her. The sooner you learn that, the better." He wrapped his arm around her protectively, pulling her close up against him. _And I'll thank you to stop tormenting her with your idiotic decisions. You don't know what it does to her, to see those things. __Her gift is a burden, Edward, especially when those she loves commit themselves to a painful future. __I ought to know- I've put her through decades of fear and grief, myself. __Don't add to it._

"I'm… sorry."

He nodded, turning and pulling Alice back toward the house. As I watched them go, I felt oddly warm and cold all the same time. I felt protected, safe… relieved at the future that Alice had saved me from. Relieved that she had given me a decent excuse to stay with my family, to avoid the penance that I had imposed on myself. But I felt cold, bereft as well. My penance was gone, and so was the peace that it was going to bring me. I was supposed to go up there, crush the monster into submission once and for all, and come back a new man. I was going to be ready to try again- to succeed this time. To finally be worthy of the love and forgiveness that had been advanced to me. How could I go on, without doing that? How could I stay in this family, knowing not only how weak I had already proven myself, but how much depravity I was truly capable of? How could I stand to do _nothing_ about it?

But it seemed that nothing was exactly what I was going to do. Nothing- not even my own guilt- was enough to risk the future that Alice had shown me.

I would stay. Not with the peace that I was supposed to earn with my time away, though – that was gone now. I supposed it was never there to begin with. I would stay, but not because I wanted to. I would stay because I had to. I loved my family too much to do anything else. If this was the only penance I was capable of, then so be it. I would stay, and live with the shame of what I had almost done.

I was trapped.

* * *

**We can't get the whole story via Alice's visions, but I have this whole AU tangent worked out -I might write an "AU Outtake" someday in which we see how Edward's plan led to that future. I still haven't decided the ending - there's actually three possible ways that this could lead him to Volterra and a cloak- but I would definitely like to write it someday. But thankfully, that's all gone now. Pixie power! **

**For those of you anticipating Jasper's first blood challenge, that's coming up next.**


	19. Plan B

**Sadly, we don't get to actually see much of Jasper's blood challenge, since Edward is not present. But I may turn it into an outtake someday. At any rate, I LOVED everyone's feedback from the last chapter. I don't think I've ever seen Edward slapped so much by reviewers LOL! He does drive us crazy, doesn't he? At least this round of his angst is finally wrapping up, and we can get into some other stuff for a while. Enjoy!**

* * *

I was grateful for the excuse of taking Jasper hunting. I was still reeling from the shock of Alice's visions, and from the plans that had just been snatched away from me. I wasn't ready to be back at home with the others, pretending that everything was all right. I had managed it this long only because I was delaying my departure, unsure when it would be. Now that my plans had come to nothing, I felt panicked, off-balance. I needed time to think, to get my bearings again.

I zipped back to the house, passing Alice and Jasper on the porch.

"Emmett!" I called up the stairs. "Hunting."

_Aw, come on! I just got clean!_

"Sorry," Jasper said, glancing up at the ceiling- and at Emmett's annoyance, no doubt. "But I think you should come, Emmett, just in case."

"Coming," Emmett grumbled as he shuffled down the stairs. _I never thought I'd be sick of hunting. This is what, the tenth time this week?_

"You know, Em, it's not necessary that you get filthy every time you go out," I muttered. "You're not even hunting half the time. And besides, this family _lived_ in the woods when you were a newborn, remember?"

"Okay, okay!" he protested. "I get the point. I'm just saying, it's good that that Jasper's starting up with the blood challenges."

"Can't wait," Jasper sighed. "Let's go."

.

.

.

We went to Coolidge this time, to mix it up. The routine was the same as always: I scouted ahead, keeping an ear out for humans. Emmett and I both stuck to Jasper like glue until he scented his prey, and then gave him some privacy while he fed. It was pretty simple, consider he never actually _hunted_. He fed the same way every time: he chose the first animal he found, raced up to it with a killing blow, and fed standing up. No favorites, no chase, no fight, no frenzy… just feeding. Emmett and I didn't understand it, but we hadn't said anything about it, after that first day.

I watched him now as he drained a second deer, still standing upright and still in complete control of himself. But I knew that it wasn't really control, per se; to him, all animals tasted equally wretched, and he simply couldn't enjoy the blood enough to lose himself in the frenzy. It was probably the reason he had to feed so often; I didn't envy him that.

Jasper finished and began to bury his prey. I frowned, rubbing my own throat; I was still thirsty, myself. Jasper's ever-present thirst had been difficult for me the past two weeks. And I hadn't hunted myself since their arrival, having been busy scouting for humans while Jasper fed each time.

"You two go on back without me," I told Emmett as Jasper rejoined us. "I'm going to hunt a little, myself."

I found a deer in less than a mile. I crept up behind it, my throat burning in anticipation. But as I delivered the killing blow, I decided to try feeding Jasper's way. I had one it only once before, the last time I had fed. I remained standing, lifting the deer's throat to my mouth and steeling myself against the frenzy. It was slightly more difficult than last time; I was far thirstier. But it was only deer blood, after all. I drained the whole thing without even shutting my eyes. As soon as I had it buried, I moved on, soon catching the scent of a black bear; now that was more like it.

I stalked him for a few minutes, letting the thirst build back up again as I waited. Now I had a choice to make. The reason I had fed this way two weeks ago was that I thought it was my last meal, for the foreseeable future. I had needed to feed, to make my eyes golden for my farewell scene, but I had been curious to see how much control I had over myself. I had wanted my last blood to be taken on my own terms, not the monster's. A fitting start to my plan.

But that future was gone now. Alice's visions had proved that I was too weak to control my monster by starving him. That plan was too drastic, too severe. But did that mean there was no other way? What if I were to continue feeding like this- allowing the monster his ration, but not his wildness? Perhaps, with this sort of moderation, I could slowly continue to improve myself, to make myself safer… more human.

I had, with years of practice, mastered the blood challenges. I had slowly but surely gained a higher level of control, though even that hadn't turned out to be enough. Did I have the patience to start another slow-motion battle?

I did. I _had_ to. Because the alternative- accepting an eternity of stagnancy and inadequacy- was unthinkable. It was all right for some of the others- Emmett, Alice, even Esme. They were as strong as they felt they needed to be, and I didn't fault them for that. They accepted what they were, and the risks associated with it. They had all had accidents in the past, and it could happen again at any time.

But that wasn't good enough for me. It wasn't good enough for Carlisle. He walked into that hospital night after night, _knowing_ that he wasn't going to hurt anybody. That was what I wanted: that certainty. It was what I _needed_.

The bear moved away, and I felt the familiar pull in my muscles. I would try it now, and see if it was even possible. Bear blood was worlds better than deer; this was going to be tricky. For one thing, I wouldn't be able to enjoy a good fight… and I should probably avoid the pursuit, as well, since it always got the venom flowing more. It was ironic that my example in this type of hunt should be the one among us with the worst control: Jasper.

I walked up to the bear, casually breaking his neck with one hand. I forced myself to wait… and that was when it got difficult. The monster finally realized what I was doing, and he raged against my choice. Every second that I waited, the blood was cooling, spoiling… but maybe that would help. I waited a full minute, and then slowly brought the bear's throat up to my lips like a glass of water. My whole body trembled as I fought the urge to fall to my knees, to bury my face in my kill like an animal. But I could do this. I took ten more slow breaths, pleased to feel the monster rebelling inside of me. I finally bit, forcing my eyes to stay focused on the tree in front of me as I drank. I almost lost myself halfway through, though; this was _very_ difficult. Just before the frenzy took me, I abruptly tore the bear's throat away from my mouth, dropping the animal half-drained and backing away from it. My hands formed claws of their own accord, and my lips curled back in an outraged snarl. The monster was not pleased.

_Not enough!_

"That's all you're going to have," I hissed. "Get used to it."

I shivered once, and my throat flamed in protest; the thought of stopping halfway was decidedly unnatural. Not that I hadn't done it before, but never while still thirsty, and certainly not with bear blood… to say nothing of mountain lion. It might be some time before I could test myself against _that_.

But I was pleased with my success today. I had discovered several variables with which to grapple: the pursuit, the fight, the instant gratification, and the frenzy itself. I was curious to see whether this new hunting style would necessitate feeding more often, or if, once I got better at it, I might actually be able to feed _less_ often. That was a variable that I could perhaps "graduate" to, later on: to see how many days I could push it, while keeping a decent eye color. This way I could conduct my battle in private, without my family worrying, or Alice seeing. And it would also keep the humans around me safe. It would be a slow-motion battle indeed: years, perhaps, before I would feel confident enough to try medical school again. But based on how difficult the bear had been, I was convinced it was a battle worth fighting; simply an isometric exercise of my will, versus concentric. I would fight the monster on any battleground I could think of.

I waited, motionless, to see if I needed to feed again. It was only the first attempt, after all. But I smiled as the thirst faded dutifully away- even the monster couldn't deny that he had been fed. On my way home, I checked in the mirror of a creek, verifying that my eyes were sufficiently golden. It had been a good-sized bear, and the deer had been large as well.

This was going to work. I was so, _so_ relieved to have found this other option. The end goal was the same as before: to become strong enough to try medical school again, and succeed this time. To prove to myself, to Carlisle, to the monster, that I could overcome the darkness inside of me- that it was possible for me to save lives instead of take them. To repay the enormous debt of human life that loomed over me. It would take longer this way, but time was one thing I had in abundance.

So when I got back the house, Jasper stared curiously, no doubt impressed by the positive change in my mood.

"Are you ready?" I asked, eager to get his attention off of my emotional state.

He shrugged, looking a bit uneasy. _As ready as I'll ever be._

Alice whooshed down the stairs, appearing in a new outfit; this was the fourth one today. This one was some kind of housewife-inspired white frock, with a fitted bosom and a full skirt that fell only to her _knees_. She spun gracefully around, and the mysterious folds of fabric flared out around her like a cloud. Jasper grinned widely, his trepidation forgotten.

"_You_ are beautiful," he said, lifting her up off the ground to kiss her. She crossed her arms behind his neck, and I turned away to give them some privacy. Alice and Jasper were relatively calm in terms of their passion, and I was grateful. I wouldn't have said that they were any less in love than Rosalie and Emmett; far from it. If anything, their bond was more intense. But they were often content to just stare into each other's eyes, or to sit near each other with only their toes touching, or not touching at all. I could easily imagine them being an elderly human couple; so comfortable with each other that silence, and nearness, were passionate enough. Of course, the opposite was also true- their love would be forever young, forever fresh, just like that of my parents and other siblings. Their love, while more appropriate for the society of their telepathic brother, was just as obsessive and absolute as that of any vampire couple.

While I was grateful for their restraint, there was a unique downside to living with their love: I could _feel_ it. It didn't happen often, thankfully. Jasper had learned, over the course of nearly a century, a great deal of control over the offensive side of his gift. But there were times, when he felt intense emotion, that he simply wasn't able to contain himself. It was one of the reasons he had parted ways with Peter and Charlotte; he knew that his depression was spilling into their own hearts, and he wanted to spare them. I imagined that if Jasper were to get angry, truly furious, that we would all feel the effects, whether he intended for us to or not. Thankfully, Jasper hadn't had occasion yet to get angry, since his arrival. But he had, every minute of every day, his love for Alice.

It had first happened the day of his arrival, when Emmett and I were walking back home with him after he had hunted. They had been discussing their love for their mates, and for a brief moment, I had felt the most curious sensation of warmth, of floating in a sea of something wonderful. It had happened four times since then, always when Jasper was intensely focused on Alice. I supposed it was a nice feeling, in a way, but I didn't want it. All it accomplished was showing me what I didn't have- what I might never have. Jasper had finally noticed, last week, the effect that his secondhand love was having on me, and apologized. He had been trying harder, since then, to contain himself.

But he couldn't really be blamed for feeling as he did. Even with those brief snatches I had inadvertently received, and even within the limits of my own gift, I was amazed at the sheer _power_ of his love for Alice. She was, in every way, the absolute center of his universe. The gentlemanly restraint that he practiced with her –at least when the rest of us were around- belied the totality of his devotion. It was so complete it was almost frightening. It reminded me, in fact, of the imprinting phenomenon I had observed in the werewolves' minds.

_Edward._

My attention shifted upstairs, to where Carlisle was.

_I'm taking Jasper out in a few minutes, but I wanted to tell you something first. Don't react visibly, please- I know Alice is down there with you.__ There's something I want to do for her, a surprise. __No, don't try to fish it out of my mind- you might make a decision that would give it away. __Someday- soon, possibly, I am going to ask you to distract Alice as much as possible, while I am preparing the… surprise. __I'll tell the others the same thing when I get the chance._

That was it- his mind was already on the blood challenge, and two minutes later he came down the stairs, smiling at Jasper and asking if he was ready. His eyes flicked to me in question, and I nodded slightly to acknowledge his message. This should be interesting, whatever it was.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Jasper sighed, echoing his lack of enthusiasm from earlier.

"You can do it," Alice said softly. She stood up on her tiptoes, offering him the sort of kiss that a housewife might give her husband as she sent him off to work. He bent down to receive it, running the back of his hand down the side of her face in return.

_I would do anything for you._

I felt it then: a single burst of his overflowing love. I sighed wistfully, and Jasper quickly pulled himself back together for my sake. He followed Carlisle out the front door, and I turned to Alice.

"I suppose you'll be watching?"

She made a face. "I try _not_ to watch where human blood is concerned, thanks. I'm a vampire, too, you know."

"Ah."

"I'm going back upstairs! Rosalie is going to teach me how to do a pedicure. Want to come watch?"

Now _I_ made a face. "Certainly not. I'm going to the hardware store, to get more paint before they close. And a new ladder, since I broke ours on Emmett's face. "

_Boring._ "Well, have fun!" She zipped up the stairs, but stopped halfway, turning back around. Her skirt flared out again. "So… you're okay now?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry for my rudeness earlier. I am very, very grateful for what you did for me today."

She smiled- a huge, girlish grin that made me smile in return.

"It's what best friends do for each other."

There was a streak of white up the stairs, and she was gone.

.

.

.

I was composing in my head while I drove to the hardware store. Now that I felt at peace again about my plans for myself, I could turn my attention to other matters. This was a song for Alice and Jasper, about their love. I was picturing the scene from this evening: Alice sending Jasper off with a kiss, his hand brushing her face, the absolute devotion in his thoughts. The song had an ethereal, other-worldly sound. There would be two other movements, preceding this part of the piece: one for each of them, representing their years apart. I hadn't written those yet. But I was sure Alice's theme would turn out to be some spritely, hyperactive melody dancing around high C. Jasper's… I wasn't quite sure yet. I would have to work on that one later. But for now, I savored the glimpse of true love Jasper had accidentally shown me tonight, using it as my muse for the "together" part of the composition. I might as well do _something_ useful with it.

I hadn't composed anything in years for my own true love. In fact, I hadn't given her much thought lately. I had been occupied with medical school, but it was more than that. I supposed that I had sort of given up, after our world tour in the early forties. When we began our travels, I was hopeful that I might _finally_ be meeting her. We were going to explore the world, after all- and we did, in fact, come across plenty of vampires. First there were the Amazons- eligible females, indeed, but not exactly my type. Besides our difference in diet, I was put off by their wildness- frightened, actually, at least in the beginning. As our travels continued, I learned a very disappointing truth: the vampire world was _not_ full of maidens waiting for their Prince Charming to arrive. I met only one girl, in fact, who bore any sort of resemblance to the fuzzy portrait I had been holding in my head all these years. Her name was Maggie, a recent addition to the Irish Coven. She was petite, beautiful, and, as Rosalie eagerly pointed out, her hair even matched mine. She was gifted, as well: she could instinctively tell when someone was lying, either in their speech or their behavior. Deception actually made her physically uncomfortable. She was friendly enough, though she had absolutely no sense of humor. She had a chillingly beautiful singing voice, and she and I ended up sharing some of our compositions- mine for the piano, hers for the harp. I genuinely enjoyed our time with her, and the rest of her coven. And the sad story of her human life did stir some protective emotions in me… but that was it. My heart simply didn't have anything else to say about her. Not that it would have mattered; she showed no interest in either me or my backwards diet.

And that was it. I hadn't met anyone else even remotely worth considering. When the War was over, we retired back to America, and my hopes began to fade. I knew, of course, that there was always hope; for all I knew, she hadn't even been born yet. Of course… she might _never_ be born. With each year that was passing, my disappointment was fading into cynicism. I stopped composing for her. I still thought about her sometimes, but no longer every day, and only with the slightest shred of hope. Anything else was not only pointless; it was sad. I didn't _like_ feeling incomplete.

But it wasn't until two weeks ago that I got my first real taste of what I was missing. I was sure I still wasn't getting the whole picture; it was only second-hand love, after all. And I knew that "love" was far more than an emotion. But still… it was eye-opening.

I considered myself to be a fairly intuitive person- a fair boast, I thought, considering what my gift was. I had had almost thirty years now of observing true love, and what it entailed. I had quickly learned, from observing my parents and their minds, that was they had was something wonderful… something I wanted. But now I saw how limited my observations had been. To actually _feel_ what that love was like… In those brief moments when Jasper's love for Alice echoed in waves through the house, I felt actual _warmth_. It felt like my heart was beating, pulling out of my chest. I felt my mind grow numb, as though thinking about anything except my mate was meaningless. I felt like I was lifting off the earth, its gravity made obsolete as every fiber of my being was pulled toward…

Nobody.

This was my problem. It would have been better if Jasper had kept the secret to himself- not that I blamed him, and not that I disliked the feeling itself- not at all. It was just that when he took it away, I felt so _alone_. I truly believed now, for the first time, that I was capable of a deep, mind-shattering love, and I had absolutely no one to give it to. Frustrating, to say the least. But it was good for one thing: it would make this composition a snap. I simply had to consider the love that Alice and Jasper held for each other, and put it to music. I was just getting to the second movement when I pulled into the parking lot. I rushed in at human speed; they were closing in fifteen minutes.

I decided to select a slightly darker blue than before. While I was waiting for the clerk to mix it, I casually roamed through the minds in the store. My attention snapped immediately onto a familiar mind: William Cummings. I didn't particularly want to talk to him- he would, no doubt, want the story of why I had dropped off the face of the earth. And I had already been planning to let the friendship die. But it might be wise to approach him now, so that he wouldn't feel the need to come knocking on our door again. I told the clerk that I would just be a minute, and followed William's mind into the electrical aisle. I found him squinting at the specifications of one of those newfangled television remote controls. He was wondering whether it was worth purchasing, when you had to keep it plugged into television anyway.

"Hello, William."

He spun around. "Edward!" He reached over and tapped my shoulder in the affectionate, careful way that he and Nick had always done. I nodded my own greeting. "I came by your house the other day," he said in a rush. "Did you get my note?"

"I did. It was kind of you to stop by, though I'm quite all right."

He frowned, remembering the whispers that I had flunked out of the program. "I just thought… I wondered if maybe you had gotten sick. I didn't see you at graduation." _Didn't hear his name, either- but he could never have flunked out! This is awkward… what should I say?_ He peered at my face, noticing the odd color of my eyes and my paleness. Nothing he hadn't seen before, but now he thought I looked unwell.

I nodded again, silently acknowledging the awkwardness of the moment. "I'm… taking some time off. Thought I might travel a bit, before I move on to the M.D." It was all true, technically: I did intend to try again, someday. And we would, no doubt, be moving at least twice before that day came. All at once, I felt sorry that I couldn't tell my friend the truth. For that was what he was: my friend. I wasn't his, not really. But I felt the urge to be a bit more honest, nonetheless.

"The truth is…" I inched closer, and he held his breath. "The truth is, I was asked to withdraw. There was some… unpleasantness down at Yale, that day you were sick. I was observing a heart surgery, and-"

"_Heart_ surgery?" he echoed, his face draining of color. "We signed up for a hand!"

"I know," I said darkly. "But the hand rescheduled." I paused briefly, a realization dawning over me. The hand patient changing her surgery date was, no doubt, the decision that had kicked off Alice's visions. Unbelievable. "Anyway, the blood was a bit much for me. I got pretty sick, and one thing led to another, and… well, Dartmouth was a bit embarrassed by the whole thing."

His eyes were as big as saucers now; he could easily imagine this scenario happening to _him_, had he accompanied me that day. "And they just cut you loose?" he whispered.

"You know how the Board is these days," I said roughly. "They're all about their image, growing the school back up into a full-fledged M.D. program. And they need to keep up their relations with Yale. Sacrificing a student to keep their hands clean was an easy choice."

"But it's not right! Listen, my old man's a lawyer, and we could-"

I held up my hand. "No, it's all right. I really would like to take some time off. I'm only twenty, after all- I have plenty of time to try again, later on. It's fine, really."

William shook his head sadly. "It's still not right. Oh, man, Edward, I'm so sorry about this."

"Let's just keep it between us, all right? And Nick, of course."

"Of course. So, where are you off to in your travels?"

I smiled grimly, recognizing another chance to actually tell the truth. "I was thinking about heading North… or London, maybe."

"Well, I hope you do give medical school another go, and soon."

"I plan to. Good luck to you at Harvard, William. And give my best to Nick, would you?"

He shook my hand, unsurprised at my usual coldness. "You got it. Take care."

We parted ways, and I swung around to the construction section to pick up a ladder. As I carried the paint to the cashier, I watched his thoughts carefully for any sign that he might try to visit the house again. But he was just lamenting the injustice of my misfortune, and thanking his lucky stars that he had gotten the flu three weeks ago. He had no idea how lucky he really was, that he was even alive. I had invented the travel story on the spot, hoping to discourage any further visits. But I hoped he wouldn't mention it to anyone else- it might raise questions, if I was seen in town in the coming months.

When I returned home, the only minds I could hear were Carlisle's and Esme's. They were on the front porch, and Carlisle seemed to have just come back home. Judging by their conversation, the blood challenge had not gone well. Not well at _all_. I jumped out of the car, not bothering to bring the paint with me. Carlisle turned to face me, and I flinched at the sight of him. He had spatters of dried blood all over his clothes, not to mention the mud that was caked all over his left side.

"What happened?" I demanded. "Where's Jasper?"

He sighed. "The blood challenge didn't go well."

"I can see that! What happened?"

He replayed the last hour for me in his mind. As he and Jasper had made their way deep into the woods, he had explained the purpose and procedure of the challenge. Jasper had seemed more and more anxious as the time had drawn near, but he had agreed to everything. Carlisle had sent him two miles off, and started warming up the blood. Since the blood he had stolen was in one of those new plastic bags, he had decided to use one of Esme's saucepans. He had just barely gotten the blood to body temperature when Jasper had crashed right into him, his eyes wild. They had struggled briefly, Carlisle trying to reach the blood and spill it onto the ground. But he was no match for Jasper.

"He drank the whole thing," Carlisle admitted in defeat. "I should never have done this to him."

"No, you should never have done it without _me_," I said angrily. "I _told_ you I needed to be there. Next time-"

"I don't think there will be a next time."

I frowned. "You're giving up, already?"

"It was too much for him, Edward. He was sorry, of course, when it was over, and mortified at how he had attacked me. But for him to make it back that fast, when the blood was barely still heating… it was obvious he hadn't gone the two miles I asked him to. He admitted that he hadn't been able to pull himself that far away from the blood, knowing it was there."

"So let's try again. I'll be able to tell you if he's really moving out far enough."

"It's not just that. It's the fact that he was able to approach me that quietly, before attacking. If he had been truly out of control, I would have heard him crashing through the trees."

"Are you saying he attacked you on _purpose_?"

"No, of course not. I just think that, despite his best intentions, he was determined to get the blood, no matter what- once he smelled it, anyway. I honestly don't think he's motivated enough to try this again."

"I'm sure that isn't right," Esme protested. "He's committed to the animal diet."

"Committed, yes. But not motivated, not like the rest of us. I've gotten the impression that he's mainly doing it for Alice's sake."

"And for his own," I added. "His gift made it emotionally painful to feed on humans. He was relieved when Alice showed him the alternative. Remember, he's spent most of his life thinking of humans as just his prey. Carlisle, you've got to give him another chance."

"I'm not giving up on Jasper, just the blood challenges. I've been thinking of him as a newborn, when that simply isn't the case. His situation is more like…" _Like yours._

Carlisle was quiet for a moment, his memory sweeping through the spring and summer of 1931. He was remembering my near-accident, and the months he had spent helping me desensitize to human scent. "Yes… that's it exactly," he said to himself.

"What?" Esme asked.

"Jasper's situation is similar to Edward's, back in 1931… when he first came back. Remember the piano mover?"

Esme frowned, glancing worriedly up at me. "How could I forget? It was the only time a human has actually bled in our house. And it was the only time that Edward almost had an accident. I mean, before this time."

"I wouldn't have called it the _only_ time," I said darkly. "Though I do see your point, Carlisle. My control around humans was pretty poor when I first came back."

"And do you remember what we concluded, on that day?" Carlisle asked gently. "That part of your difficulty was psychological. You weren't physically thirsty at the time, and you weren't a newborn, unable to control your thirst. It was more that you were accustomed to human blood, and that smelling it triggered a desperate response, pent up over months of denial. You had become dependent on human blood, and your first exposure was a shock to your control. You needed to be desensitized again. It's the same thing I did with all of you, when you were new. The only difference was that this time, you were _psychologically_ dependent on human blood. You weren't just learning to resist your thirst, like a newborn; you had to rewrite your thinking. You were coming off of an addiction, and the psychological dependence that accompanied it."

"And that's where Jasper is right now," I concluded. "Only he's been under the addiction for far longer, and had never been taught to see humans as people in the first place."

"Not to mention the complication of Maria's treatment of him," Carlisle sighed. "She practically drowned him in human blood, especially in the beginning. She fed him far too often, and far too much. She trained him to associate gluttony with her approval. Jasper said it was one of the ways she kept everyone loyal."

"What a horrible person," Esme said hotly. "She was practically his mother, and to treat him like _that_. No wonder he's having such a hard time."

"That's why I don't want to do any more blood challenges with him," Carlisle said. "We're dealing more with Jasper's obsession with blood itself, than his thirst... though that is a problem, as well. I'll come up with some other ways to help him desensitize. In the meantime, Edward, I'd like you to talk to him. You're really the only one who can sympathize with his situation – it might help if he can feel a little less alone in his struggle, and see your example."

"My _example_?" I said with a bitter laugh. "I hardly think I'm one to lecture anyone about their control. Are you forgetting what happened down at Yale?"

"I don't want you to lecture him," Carlisle said with a frown. "I want you to encourage him."

"And what happened down at Yale was a fluke," Esme said firmly, laying her hand on my arm. "You still have the best control of any of us except Carlisle- and that's an amazing accomplishment , considering the fact that you did feed on humans for a while. I think Jasper could learn a lot from your example."

I shook my head, backing away slightly. We didn't normally discuss those awful years; Carlisle and Esme knew how much it pained me to relive that time. And how was I supposed to help Jasper, when I was still waging my own battle?

"Edward," Carlisle said quietly, "I know this is a difficult topic for you. But I really do think that you can help Jasper, in a way that I never could. He's a part of our family now. Don't you think we should all do everything we can to help him succeed?"

I let out my breath slowly. "Fine. I'll talk to him."

"Good. He and Alice went off toward the west- I don't think they're too far out."

"What, right now?"

He shrugged. "It's as good a time as any. Esme, do you want to try and salvage this shirt?"

She wrinkled her nose. "No, just burn it."

I sighed and left them on the porch, running west to go find Alice and Jasper. I would do my best, but I didn't see what it would accomplish. Just because my control was better than Jasper's didn't mean I had any answers for him. How could one blind man lead another?

* * *

**I hope I'm not bending canon too much here with the love thing. I know in Midnight Sun Edward says that he had never felt anything like what he felt for Bella, but let's just assume that his love for her was exponentially greater than these "accidental glimpses" from Jasper's gift. It just seemed to me like the sort of thing that would happen, especially when Jasper first joined the family. Just like Alice had to adjust all those "echoes" for Edward's sake- the coming together of all the talents had to have some complications at first.**

**And in case anyone's wondering: yes, Edward's Plan B is another Bad Idea. But hey, an eating disorder is better than becoming a ripper and signing up for an eternity of servitude, right? Right.**


End file.
